


Overlooked

by Felcie



Category: Teen Wolf (TV)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Dystopia, Angst, M/M, Minor Character Death, Multi, Rape/Non-con Elements, nor is the rape warning btw, the underage warning is not for derek x stiles
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2014-08-04
Updated: 2015-01-01
Packaged: 2018-02-11 19:23:35
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Rape/Non-Con, Underage
Chapters: 10
Words: 62,564
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2080197
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Felcie/pseuds/Felcie
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>In a world where Humans and Emissaries must serve the Weres, the young human Stiles wakes up after a car accident with no memories and Derek, a werewolf, decides to take care of him.</p>
<p>Or that one time a friend asked me for a jamaro crash where hurt!stiles develops a raging crush on derek who takes care of him because he feels guilty. It was supposed to be something nice, it won't be.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Crash

**Author's Note:**

> This is not beta'd so I apologize in advance for all the incoming mistakes, english is like so not my first language.

_It was a bad idea, running away from Peter, he_ knew _it. But he couldn’t stand it anymore. He couldn’t stand any of this. The way he looked at him, with those greedy eyes, the way he touched him… Stiles shivered and took another sip of his bottle of Jack. Driving way too fast and drinking. His father wouldn’t have been impressed. But he was dead, it didn’t matter anymore._

_If Stiles was lucky, by driving like that, he would die too._

_So when in a blink appeared a car he couldn’t – or maybe just didn’t want to – avoid, he just closed his eyes, relieved._

 

***

He can’t breathe. He doesn’t feel the cold wind on his skin and yet he is shaking. He can see the stars above and the full moon glimmering. It is night, so it must be cold. That is probably why he is shaking, he just can’t _feel_ it. It is like his brain decided that it is better to numb his whole body and, somewhere deep down, he knows that it isn’t a good thing.

 

It means that something bad happened to him. Physically.

 

He hears a cracking noise, like someone walking on broken glass. He feels panic rising inside of him but he can’t move. That scared sob echoing must be his. He doesn’t know why he is worried, hell he doesn’t even know what is happening. The only thing certain is that it is night and that, sooner or later, his whole body is going to hurt like a bitch.

 

“Shh” says a man’s voice that he expected to be heavier somehow. “No need to be afraid. I won’t hurt you. More.”

 

The other comes closer and sits next to him, or so he guesses, and he can finally put a face on that voice. The man is beautiful, really. Broad shoulders, strong jawline, heavy stubble, white skin and his eyes, _his eyes_ are just amazing. He feels ridiculous, staring like this while he really should try to, at least, figure out the situation. The other raises an eyebrow and sighs.

 

“I’m Derek. What’s your name?”

 

He opens his mouth but nothing comes. It is as if that part of him is empty. No, not really. He knows he has a name, but something prevents him from remembering.

 

“Okay, tell me what you know, then. Anything.”

 

He frowns. Good question. What does he know? What is he supposed to know about himself?

 

“I’m a boy?” He tries, his voice hoarse.

 

The other, Derek, chuckles but nods, the ghost of a smile on his lips and he can feel his cheeks getting warmer. Fuck, he feels something after all.

 

“I’m feeling something. So far I couldn’t f—“ he starts, his sentence suddenly interrupted by a violent cough leaving a metallic taste in his mouth.

 

A sudden pain piercing his body and then nothing.

 

***

 

He doesn’t know how long he stayed unconscious. He’s not even sure that he’s awake right now. His sight is blurry but he can still see Derek. Somehow, it makes him feel relieved.

 

“Still feeling any pain?”

 

He mouths “no” and Derek reaches to wipe the tears on his cheeks. He blinks some few times before he can finally see clearly again.

 

“You got in a crash. Well, we got in a crash.”

“Are you—“

“I’m fine. A friend of mine is coming to heal you.”

“Is it that bad?”

“You look terrible.”

 

He wants to laugh but knows it’s a bad idea. So instead, he tries to relax and closes his eyes. His head is throbbing but it’s nothing unbearable. What does he know? He’s a boy who apparently looks terrible. Awesome.

 

“My name’s Jennifer. I’m an emissary.”

 

He blinks and sees this time a woman whose long brown curly hair is falling on his face. She is incredibly beautiful – which is unfair, why is he the only one looking terrible here?! – but the feeling of dying prevents him from appreciating that fact. He coughs again and blood pours out from his mouth. He would never flirt with her (or _him_ ) after that. Ever. She doesn’t seem to mind and just takes a chalk out of her pocket.

 

“Don’t worry, I’m just going to write some ogams to help me out, since there aren’t any Nemetons around and, to be completely honest with you, I don’t think we can carry you anyway…”

 

He can’t understand anything but nods anyway. He doesn’t see Derek, though, and that worries him. He gets that Jennifer must be the friend he was talking about, he does, but the man’s presence was what made him feel safe until now.

 

“Hang on, it’s going to hurt.” the woman whispers, taking his head between her hands.

 

Worst understatement of the year. Hurt can’t even _begin_ to describe the pain he feels. It is like hundreds of needles piercing his head, hammers crushing his body. For one second, he wonders if his insides aren’t exploding, spilling fire on his organs. Excruciating pain could eventually describe 10% of what he is going through. He figured that he was badly injured but why is she doing that? He can’t be saved so she decides to kill him off? Who is she anyway? A surprised sob escapes his lips when the pain suddenly vanishes and cold invades him, the only warmth coming from the hands on his temples. Jennifer smiles when he shivers.

 

“You’re feeling the cold, that’s good. Because it is freezing out there… Do you mind if I lift your shirt?”

 

The boy shrugs, mostly because his throat is too dry to allow him any reply. Of course, he screamed. He knows deep down that he should be worried to be undressed by a stranger. But being half naked in front of two beautiful human beings (or something) is the least of his worries since he almost _died_. Jennifer’s head disappears and he can now see the stars. He is finally starting to feel his surroundings; the ground below him is hard and the air smells like fire and gasoline. A car accident, was it?

 

“How is he?” Derek asks, not so far from them, making him almost start.

“Less dead.” Jennifer replies, apparently standing up. “What do we do now? I can’t take him, Kali would kill him right away. But if _you_ take him, you know he’s gonna have to work.”

“He can work for me.” the man grumbles. “It’s my fault, I’m not leaving him. Thanks for your help.”

“Whatever, Derek, you owe me. Again.”

 

Then she is gone, just like that, no noise to explain how she just isn’t here anymore. He keeps staring at the sky and hopes that he will be able to see his name written up there.

 

It doesn’t happen.

 

He wakes up again without even being aware of the fact that he collapsed at some point. The boy blinks slowly and tries to figure out what is going on. First of all, he is hurt and staying awake is the hardest thing he’s ever done. Then, he actually can’t tell if it really is the hardest thing in his life because he doesn’t remember a single thing about his life before waking up somewhere on the road. Finally, he isn’t on the road anymore; it feels like a very comfortable bed and there are no stars anymore. There is a white ceiling. This is confusing. With a sigh, he decides to actually _do something_ apart from intensively staring and starts to get up, only to feel two powerful hands put him back against the pillows. What the hell is going on?

 

“Calm down, you cannot move yet…” warns a familiar voice. “You aren’t fully healed yet, wait a couple of days…”

“Uh, okay?” he manages to say, his throat dry.

 

He can’t see the man holding him down but he can tell by the weight on him that he is strong. And that his whole body seemed to radiate a comfortable warmth. He has a faint memory of his face and remembers thinking something along the lines of beautiful or amazing. He also remembers blushing like a teenage girl, even though he doesn’t even know if teenage girls really blush and why it seemed to make sense when that thought first occurred to him.

 

“Need water?”

 

The warmth leaves him when he nods, probably to look for a glass of water. The boy is right because, less than a minute later, the other man presses a glass against his lips and lets the water pour into his mouth. He almost moans when he feels the water going down his throat, soothing the light pain.

 

“You probably don’t remember but my name’s Derek.”

 

He finishes the drink and Derek takes the glass away before raising his pillow, finally allowing him to see what Derek looks like. And, oh my God, that is a beautiful sight.

 

“Yeah, I remember you perfectly, now.” he finally replies, his voice barely a whisper.

 

And, sure, he doesn’t know his name but he can easily guess what his sexuality is. The boy swallows hard and tries not to stare too much. Which is a huge failure but Derek is too busy looking for something in his pockets – of his incredibly tight jeans.

 

 “I found this in your car, a necklace… Could it be your name?”

 

He takes the necklace and turns it in his hands. It is something he knows he touched before; it is _his_. He looks at the name and frowns.

 

“Stiles? Sounds like a nickname or something…”

“You really don’t remember, do you? I am so sorry.”

“For what?”

“For the accident. I should have been able to prevent it.” Derek sighed. “Laura’s right, I do make a terrible werewolf, sometimes…”

“ _Excuse me_? What?”

“We had a car accident, you and I.”

“That is NOT the part of the sentence that got lost in translation, Derek. Werewolf? _Werewolf_?!”

 

Derek rolls his eyes and just waits for him – Stiles? – to calm down. He does after ten good minutes.

 

“Werewolf?”

“Yes, you heard me well. You don’t remember that either?”

“I remember _nothing_ and you’d think I would know if werewolves were real.”

“What about emissaries?”

“Your friend said she was one, right? I figure it has to do with healing powers or whatever… Right, I should have known something was wrong when she healed me. And there was the pain thing, when you were close to me, I couldn’t feel it.”

 

Derek nods, taking the necklace from his hands to put it around his neck and, werewolf or not, Stiles is not going to mind the closeness. He could probably complain and let him know that he can put it on himself but that would be a shame, really. He needs to control this. This teenage thing where you can’t control your arousal decently.

 

“Wait? Am I a teenager?”

 

Derek sits back and frowns.

 

“You're young but not that young. I’d say nineteen or twenty years old.”

“Can I see myself?”

 

Derek seems to hesitate but stands up and offers his hand. Inhaling, Stiles takes it and lets Derek help him walk towards what seems to be the bathroom. He puts the fact that he is in a fancy room in a corner of his mind and takes in the sight of him in the mirror. He doesn’t know what he expected but it’s actually not that bad. He is bruised, badly bruised really, but he can see moles all over his face and neck under the marks. He can see light brown eyes and dark hair. There’s also something in his eyes that makes him uneasy but maybe it’s because he sees himself for the first time and he doesn’t recognize the young broken man in the mirror. He knows why Derek hesitated.

 

“Come on.” Derek says, turning the light off and taking his hand again.

 

Stiles doesn’t resist and goes back to bed. It’s about to get worse, so much worse when Derek finally explains later what he forgot about the world he lives in.

 

Derek tells him that the world is divided in two species: the Weres and the Humans. He learns that, many years ago, there had been a war between the two and the Weres won. They have been in control ever since, while the Humans must obey and serve them as a punishment for their betrayal.

 

“Betrayal?”

 

Derek nods.

 

“Both used to be allies, until the Argents decided that they deserved more, that the Weres were abominations. Hence the war.”

“So the Humans started the war. My kind against yours, right?”

“Yeah. Not exactly your kind, though, emissaries are the ones who started it. They thought they were too powerful to be at the same level as monsters.”

“Emissaries… like Jennifer.” Stiles whispers, trying to make connections with the few things he knows. “What do you mean by serve and obey? Like you guys are the rulers and we do our best to please you? What do we have to do?”

“It’s not that… friendly. Humans and Emissaries are servants, you don’t really have a choice, sometimes my kind even kill one of you randomly just because he felt like it.”

“That’s… wow. That can happen to me, right? Okay.”

“Usually, we use you for…” Derek starts, looking away. “Favors.”

 

Stiles frowns at him, mouthing the word again. Why would Derek be so ashamed? That’s when it hits him. It’s so obvious that he can’t believe he didn’t understand right away.

 

“Basically you are telling me that Humans are prostitutes? Is that what will happen to me?”

“Considering your age and looks, I’d say it already happened.”

 

None of them talks for a while after this. Derek obviously doesn’t want to say more on this subject and, well, Stiles himself isn’t sure that he is ready to know more. That is how it ends up being a week of small talk. _Are you hungry? Did you sleep well? Are we avoiding the subject?_ Yes, we are. Derek is barely here anyway, he only comes during the hours when Stiles needs to eat or shower. Showers are Stiles’ favorite part of the day. No, he doesn’t take them with Derek, which would also make them awesome, but it’s when he can close his eyes and let the water flow on him, cleanse him. He can’t explain why he always feels dirty. Maybe it’s something he subconsciously knows from his past or maybe it’s just because of Derek’s words.

 

_I’d say it already happened._

 

A part of him is flattered to know Derek thinks he’s somehow attractive enough for it, the other part is disgusted. Stiles thinks he can eventually ignore it completely and stay in Derek’s bedroom forever when the werewolf brings a laptop with him one morning.

 

“I’m guessing you don’t remember how to use the Internet?”

 

Stiles shrugs, because it sounds familiar but he can’t really tell if he knows anything about it. So Derek sits on the bed next to him and starts to explain him how it works. Stiles can’t help the smile coming on his lips.

 

“Admit it, you’re giving me this because you don’t want to tell me yourself just how shitty my life is.”

“I’m just trying to see things from your point of view. Waking up in your position, lost and on the wrong side of the war… None of this is your fault, you didn’t choose to be who you are.”

“I was born Human. There was no choice to begin with, you said yourself that I have been probably used already before the accident.” Stiles replies coolly. “Or maybe you just don’t care because you didn’t know me until now. What if I remember what happened before, will you ignore what I’ve been through? Do you just plan to give me to anyone in need of _favors_ because I have no choice?”

“Don’t blame me for what you are.” Derek retorts, standing up.

“Oh, it’s _what_ you are, now. Not who anymore! You don’t know what it is to be in my position, you can’t even begin to imagine it because you have been able to make choices all your life. I woke up with no memories and now I know it doesn’t matter since I only serve one purpose; being used. So, yeah, I’m not looking forward knowing more about myself because everything already sucks and I am blaming you for acting like I should accept it!”

 

Stiles only realizes after that he was yelling. Derek just stares at him, conflicted, as if he isn’t sure about what he should do next.

 

“When you remember.” He finally says. “I hope you realize that we will have to bring you back to your owner.”

 

That really helps. Why not reminding him that he doesn’t have any free will and never had? He’s just an object that Weres throw away, apparently. Great. All of this is great. Stiles does then the only thing he can do: ignoring Derek and getting lost on the Internet. He figures that if he wants to win that ideological talk with him, he actually needs arguments. So he spends days discovering the History of his world but also of the town he’s in – Beacon Hills, according to Derek. The fact that it’s in California really doesn’t move him that much, apart from the moment when after noticing that ocean isn’t that far away from here, he ends up googling pictures of beaches and sea beds. During one day. Nature is amazing and that’s only why he did it, not because he wants to go there or because he’s fucking _suffocating_ here.

 

At least he isn’t selling his body, right?

 

Looking up prostitution and similar words had been painful but he wanted to know what was going to happen to him. Not that Derek said anything about it yet, he knew that it was logical for the werewolf so Stiles tried to prepare himself. He now knows for sure that nothing can prepare him for what is coming. No pun intended.

 

“I think you are a sarcastic little shit.” Derek says one day, head on his pillow and half-asleep while Stiles is still awake scrolling on a random Wikipedia page.

 

Stiles turns his head to look at him, offended.

 

“Excuse me? You haven’t talked to me for 10 days now and that’s how you start the conversation?”

 

Derek yawns, obviously unmoved by Stiles’ reaction.

 

“I was just thinking. How were you before the accident? That’s my conclusion.”

“Rude. You’re the one ignoring me.”

“Yeah, right.” Derek snorts, opening his eyes – his weakness, of course – to look at him. “So you aren’t pouting or anything because I don’t care about your lack of choices in this terrible world.”

“So you admit that you don’t care about me, finally!”

“Stiles, you might have amnesia but I know that you aren’t stupid. You wouldn’t be in my bed, healing and doing what you want if I didn’t care.”

 

Stiles narrows his eyes at him and closes the laptop, putting it on the floor.

 

“Is that why you didn’t ask for favors? You’re waiting for me to heal?”

“I’m not waiting for anything, it’s not hard for me to get _favors_ elsewhere.”

“Because you look like a Greek God? Don’t look at me like that, it’s part of History, I looked it up.”

“No, because I’m a werewolf. Remember, I am privileged and I have plenty of choice.”

“You’re also an asshole. My situation isn’t funny. Wait, so you went to find a random human in the street, rape him or her before coming back to take care of me. I’m flattered.”

“I don’t _rape_ people” Derek growls.

“Are you sure? Because from what I read, you guys consider that, even if the person isn’t willing, it doesn’t count because you are the superior race. It’s funny because I went to look for the definition of _no_ and it looks like it means no.”

“Like I said, little shit.”

“Whatever. What I’m saying is actually very important, don’t deny it.”

“Stiles, I know what consent means. I respect it.” Derek sighs.

“Again, how can you be so sure of that? We are forced to please you, so how do you know if the person you’re fucking really wants it?”

“Because I only have sex with those I’m in a relationship with.”

 

And that leaves Stiles speechless. He expected anything at this point but Derek being a nice guy? Okay, maybe he figured that out when he saved him. But somehow he needs Derek to be as bad as he should be. To be an evil villain he needs to fight against to escape.

 

The truth is if he could stay here in this room forever, he wouldn’t mind. He doesn’t want to admit it out loud, but he’s scared. He’s scared of what is behind that wooden door, that if he crosses it, wolves are going to rip him apart. Literally.

 

“Why are you in the bed tonight anyway?” Stiles finally asks. “Were you with the person you’re in a relationship with the other nights then?”

“No” Derek says with a faint chuckle. “I went to visit my sister in L.A. since I think that’s where you came from.”

“Yeah?”

“Yeah. She said she’ll try to look for clues without being noticed so that might take a while.”

“Oh, okay. Thanks.” Stiles mumbles, blushing.

 

He really didn’t expect Derek to be that caring. It’s disturbing.

 

“And the other nights?”

“On the chair over there. I don’t sleep much.”

“You could have come here, you know. It’s your bed.”

“Is that an invitation?”

“No because you invited yourself already.” Stiles retorts, slipping under the covers. “But I don’t mind that much because damn it’s warm in here. Is that your werewolf mojo?”

“I’m starting to miss those days when you ignored me. Sleep, Stiles.”

 

With a sigh, Stiles turns off the light and closes his eyes. Sleeping is never easy for him and something tells him that it’s not a new thing. He’s always uneasy, never feeling totally safe and he knows why: he’s human, he’s just a prey. That’s why Derek’s confusing to him. He doesn’t know if Derek genuinely cares or if it’s just a strategy to lure him into a false feeling of safety. Because, right now, he doesn’t worry, he feels like things could be okay for him, that not knowing who he is doesn’t matter that much. A voice in his head tells him that it’s not something he’s used to; being close to someone, feeling safe.

 

His body knows cold and sickness, worry and pain. Suffocating. Not that it really goes away.

 

Tonight he just sleeps and everything’s blank in his mind. How ironically peaceful. When he wakes up, Derek isn’t there and that makes him curious. Sure, it’s not like there’s that much to be curious about, but he does wonder why Derek is such a light sleeper. He’s not the one who should worry about being killed in his sleep, right? Stiles bites his lower lip, his brain running at full speed. But what if he does? Stiles can’t be the only one thinking that all this is unfair. Okay, he might be biased by his memory loss and the fact that he hoped for a more pleasant life than what he was told. Maybe he wasn’t that upset about it before, maybe he just accepted it because it’s the norm. He knows, though, that he doesn’t like that situation. Derek did say he was born “on the wrong side of the war”, didn’t that mean the war was still happening? But why the news were silent about it? Was it to not worry the Were population? Or maybe the rebels weren’t important enough to make front page.

 

“You’re thinking, I can hear it.”

 

Stiles looks up to Derek with a smirk.

 

“Why can’t you sleep? Afraid I’m going to stab you while you’re unconscious?”

 

Derek raises an eyebrow and sits on the bed.

 

“I can heal. And you look harmless enough to me.”

“What the hell? I’m sure I can be dangerous.”

“You’re almost healed.” Derek says instead of replying, lifting Stiles’ t-shirt – well, Derek’s t-shirt.

 

Stiles blushes.

 

“Go ahead, just undress me.”

“As if you would mind.” Derek retorts with a smirk and shit, that means his crush or attraction or whatever is obvious. “Anyway, it looks like you’re healing faster that we planned.”

“I’m starting to know that frown, Derek. Why is it a bad thing?”

 

Derek looks away and swallows before answering.

 

“Because I can’t keep you here forever. If you’re healed, I have no reason to not let you…”

“Not let me work.” Stiles finishes for him, feeling sick all of a sudden. “It’s happening. God, no, it’s happening.”

“Stiles, calm down.”

“I’m trying to be calm but… I’m not ready for this, I don’t think I ever will. That whole prostitution thing makes me wanna puke or hang myself. Can’t you just hide me here? I can please you. I mean, if it’s you and just you, I can do it, you can do what you want. But strangers? What if they aren’t strangers, what if they know me but I can’t remember them. I can’t do this, I just can’t, Derek—“

 

With a sigh, Derek puts his hand on his cheek and the panic rising inside of him is immediately soothed. Stiles closes his eyes and lets himself lean against his palm.

 

“I’ll see what I can do but… I’m not the one in charge here.”

“Here?” Stiles asks without daring to open his eyes to see Derek’s expression.

“Look around you, Stiles. What kind of place do you think this is?”

 

Reluctantly, Stiles opens his eyes but doesn’t look around. He doesn’t need to, he figured that out weeks ago. He remembers his first thought about the room. “Fancy”. Heavily detailed yellow tapestry, thick dark blue curtains always closed, satin sheets, dim light… he knows the room is made for comfort, but it’s not a hotel. People do not come here to sleep.

 

“I know where we are, Derek.” he finally says. “It’s a whorehouse.”

They go back to avoiding the subject after this. Stiles figures that stalking Derek on Google is better than asking him things directly. That’s how he learns that Derek belongs to an important family of werewolves that counts one of the most powerful Alphas of the country. Talia Hale, the owner of the brothel where he is. It says that she started it after a fire took away their former house. Stiles doesn’t really understand why losing your house makes you want to start a fucking whorehouse but whatever. It probably makes sense in wereland. From what he sees on the _website, Jesus_ , the Hale House is quite popular even though it’s not in a big city, people actually come from across the state just for the quality of the service.

 

“Shouldn’t I be trained?” Stiles asks after reading. “It says quality of the service. I never had sex, Derek, at least not in this life!”

 

Derek just shrugs and goes back to reading his book, comfortably sitting on the brown leather armchair. Stiles narrows his eyes at him but decides to forgive him. This time.

 

“Where were you these days?”

“With my family.”

 

Stiles sighs and closes the laptop. It’s not hard to tell when he won’t be able to get anything out of Derek.

 

“Come here?”

 

Derek raises an eyebrow and puts his book on the table.

 

“What now?”

 

Stiles could say many things to explain. He could say that he needs to feel a reassuring presence against him, that he’s craving for a platonic touch because soon, oh so soon, all this will be over and he doesn’t if he’s going to survive it. He won’t be able to escape, not when he knows that anywhere he goes, it will be like this. He can’t survive out there in a world he doesn’t know but maybe he can at least try, here, with Derek around to take care of him. He could say that he feels like Derek won’t be able to find a way to keep him in this room. But that’s not what he says.

 

“I’m almost fully healed.” Stiles replies with a shrug. “We should celebrate with a congratulatory hug.”

 

Derek rolls his eyes but stands up anyway, taking off his t-shirt and pants – praise all the Gods – before joining Stiles in the bed. He allows himself to put his head against the werewolf chest and closes his eyes.

 

“If I can’t do it…” he whispers. “Will you come for me?”

“Sure.” Derek says, closing his arms around him. “But we have time.”

 

Stiles nods but a part of him considers hurting himself so the healing process starts over.

 

***

 

He knows something is wrong when he wakes up this morning. Derek’s not here, like usual, but this time it feels… off. Stiles frowns but gets up anyway to take his shower – something he started to do totally on his own about one week ago and he doesn’t know why exactly he makes him proud, but it does. When he comes back, avoiding the mirror on his way out, there’s finally someone in the room.

 

Except that it’s the wrong Hale. This one is a girl and Stiles can’t prevent his step back.

 

“Who are you?”

“I’m Laura, Derek’s big sister. Why don’t you get dressed? We found clothes that could fit you.”

 

Stiles nods, because he knows deep down that he can’t argue with her the same way he can with Derek. So he drops the towel on the floor and picks up the clothes, trying to not feel bothered by her eyes on him. It’s not working because Derek usually respects his privacy. Focusing on the clothes can help, maybe. They are quite simple; a white cotton t-shirt that is indeed his size and black skinny jeans. He spots briefs and socks under the pants and put them on. Then he stares at the rest of the clothes and winces, already missing the comfortable large t-shirts of Derek.

 

“There are shoes too.” Laura says. “They’re Italian.”

 

Stiles can’t explain how he knows that but he associates immediately Italian men shoes with the word fancy. Again.

 

At this point, asking what is coming is useless and, yet, he still hopes that Derek will barge in and save him. He follows Laura outside the room after putting on his shoes and it’s like reality crashes onto him, breathing becomes hard: he doesn’t feel safe anymore, far from it. He can barely see his surroundings as he tries to focus on his breathing and on walking straight. He sees Laura before him as a blurred shape guiding him into a red maze. This can’t end well.

He thinks of Derek, Derek who promised to be here for him if things go wrong, Derek who is his only certainty. Derek who isn’t here right now to ground him, keep his panic buried under his banter and sarcastic remarks.

 

“What’s your name, again?” Laura asks, her voice sounding so far away, like a whisper behind a glass.

“Stiles.” He croaks, his throat hurting. “Derek and I—we think my name is Stiles.”

 

He sees her tense when he uses Derek’s name. She obviously doesn’t like it but Stiles can’t pinpoint why exactly. Is it because he doesn’t deserve to say it, being a puny human and all? Maybe it’s a line he didn’t have the right to cross, maybe it’s a law he didn’t hear about… But he really doesn’t remember seeing anything about Humans not being allowed to call Weres by their names so… it must be personal. Good, a personal grudge from a werewolf, everything he needs.

 

They finally arrive two floors below in front of a door marked by the number 513. Laura tells him to remember it since it will be his room from now on and opens the door. Stiles enters and isn’t surprised to see a room similar to Derek’s, except warmer with red and yellow tones. He sits on the bed, feeling the softness of the red fur under his palm. It all looks so… _kinky_. He barely hears when Laura closes the door. He sighs, disoriented. He hoped Derek would be the one taking him to his new room but maybe that’s his way of saying that he doesn’t need him anymore. His wounds are now just scars, still fragile but, honestly, that’s how he feels too. Breakable. As if everything could bleed out of him any second.

 

It seems to him that hours have passed until the door open again, but the clock on the wall tells him that it has only been ten minutes. He looks up to see a man he doesn’t know – which is a given for him at this point, sure. The man is older than him, even than Derek. Stiles would say maybe around forty, if he could really tell someone’s age with the little knowledge he gained in one month. And it’s not like he really knows Derek’s age to begin with.

 

“I’m Deucalion.” The man says with a smirk and wow, good for you.

 

Stiles knows he should pretend to care, he read on websites like “how to please your Were” that he should be obedient, always willing and never complain. Well, as Derek pointed out many times, he is everything but that. The man, Deucalion, sizes him up with a perverted gaze and Stiles can’t prevent himself from swallowing, his throat dry again. Talking, being obedient, willing, not complaining. He can do this. He has to.

 

“I’m—“ he starts but Deucalion dismisses the rest of his sentences with his hand.

“It doesn’t matter. Undress.”

 

Stiles gapes at him as he tries to process what he heard. Undress? Just like that? Apparently so, since Deucalion himself gets rid of his tie and throws it on a chair. Stiles just stays on the bed, sitting and tetanized. His mind is trying to catch up with the situation, trying to remember what he should do, what he should be _doing_ right now. But all he can think of is running, his whole body tense and obviously wanting to escape. Can he? Can he escape? A part of him knows Laura is outside or not far away, ready to shove him back in the room if necessary. Stiles curses internally. He should have prepared himself for this, prepared himself for the second he would finally leave the room. Well, not finally. He was so lulled in the comfort of Derek’s room that he didn’t consider what he should do when everything would become… uncomfortable. Maybe he just didn’t want to.

 

 _I’d say it already happened_. Derek’s words come back to him, words that made him upset at the time but now… now he knows he already did it, he can do it. It must not be that hard, right? It’s just sex, penetration for a short time then it’s over. _An intrusion_. Stiles can feel his heartbeat quickening, his hands sweating, his sight blurring. He doesn’t want this.

 

He can’t do it. He has to get out.

 

Deucalion appears in front of him, fully naked. Or maybe he was here before but Stiles was too lost in his thoughts to even notice. The man, the _werewolf_ takes his chin between his fingers and lifts up his head.

 

“Now, now, you don’t want to be a good boy?”

 

Stiles opens his mouth to reply but is interrupted again. Violently this time. Deucalion shoves him on the bed, holding his neck tightly. Stiles tries to breathe, to understand what is happening but his head is pressed against the mattress. With his free hand, Deucalion just _rips_ his clothes and Stiles can feel claws on his skin, making him shiver. He tries to break free but Deucalion holds him with a crushing strength.

 

“I will have to treat you the way you deserve.” Deucalion says.

 

A faint sob escapes his lips and he considers begging. He remembers just in time that it’s arousing, to people like him. It’s not like anything would make him stop. Stiles closes his eyes and tries to breathe through his mouth. He can hear a chuckle above him and teeth suddenly sinking into his neck, making him bleed. Stiles lets out a both surprised and pained hiccup but doesn’t lose the weak rhythm of his breath. Until Deucalion backs away, a flicker of hope before his hand enfolds his neck fully, chocking him.

 

 _Focus_ , Stiles tells himself, his sight blurring even more than during his panic earlier. Focusing on his breathing helps him to stay calm. _Focus_ , he tells himself again. Stiles thought – hoped – it would be fast, that his… client would just fuck him and go but now… It feels personal, it feels like Deucalion wants to prove him his superiority, to remind him that his life is nothing, he is but an object to be used.

 

Deucalion finally releases the grip around his throat and pulls back. Stiles thinks he can hear him getting dressed and leaving the room but he’s not sure of anything, not with his heartbeat throbbing in his ears. Minutes goes by but he doesn’t dare to move, not after _this_. He feels wrecked, empty and can’t process what just happened. He closes his eyes. Maybe it’s just a bad dream, he’ll just wake up with Derek silently watching over him from the armchair, an old book on his lap. They’ll argue over little things and Derek will roll his eyes. He will feel safe. He opens his eyes again, taking a sharp intake of air. There’s no one. Only him, dirty and cold on sticky sheets of satin. There’s no one and he knows that Derek abandoned him, in the end.

 

That’s when he finally breaks down.


	2. Claim

He meets Danny three days after; a boy probably his age with tanned skin and a dimpled smile, wearing a bright yellow t-shirt and very tight blue jeans. The guy is sent, or that’s what he tells him, to make sure he stops moping and shower before joining everyone else.  Stiles raises an eyebrow but understands quickly that Danny is probably just like him, without the amnesia thing. Danny is about to leave once Stiles nods but suddenly comes closer with a frown.

 

“Thank God, he didn’t use his fangs.” He sighs, relieved.

 

Stiles then remembers Deucalion biting him. It’s weird, a part of him forgot about it but the other part feels like it just happened. Well, he didn’t shower or even move since… that night. He knows he is still in shock behind that feeling of overall numbness.

 

“What would happen if he did?” Stiles finally asks.

“You would become a werewolf. Or claimed, whatever he wanted.”

“Claimed?”

“Right, I heard that you’re new to all this. That means he would own you, you would be his and trust me, you don’t want to belong to him.”

“I trust you.” Stiles snorts, everything about the werewolf still haunting his mind.

“Anyway, hurry up and change, we got bandages downstairs.”

 

Stiles nods again while Danny leaves the room for good and does as he’s told and checks the wardrobe for the first time. It contains several clothes, similar to the ones Laura made him wear, but also things as casual as what that Danny guy is wearing. He ends up picking a grey Henley and black jeans, finds classic Converses and, after taking a deep breath, leaves the room. A part of him wonders if they got clothes fitting him thanks to Derek. For some reason, it makes him angry but it can’t explain why exactly. Maybe the no news thing isn’t helping his mood towards the werewolf. Or the abandonment, that works too. Danny is waiting outside and shows him that dimpled smile again before gesturing to follow him.

 

They go downstairs into a warm wide room behind an ebony double door. There are others in the room, girls and boys, mostly young but some look older, around Laura’s age. People are sitting in groups on comfortable red armchairs and sofas. After handing him the promised bandage from a commode near the door, Danny guides him towards the group closer to the fireplace. Two girls look up. One is a short redhead with big hazel eyes whose physical assets are barely hidden by her loosely tied light pink satin robe. The other has long and curly blonde hair, fully clothed though Stiles wonders if a leather skirt so short and blue corset with such a plunging neckline can be considered as _wearing clothes_. She also has heavy eyeliner and bright red lipstick while her friend seems to be ready to go to bed. She appears to be taller than the redhead is, not that he can say much about it when they are sitting.

 

“This is Stiles, the new boy.” Danny introduces before sitting on the sofa, Stiles at his side.

“Nice to meet you, I’m Lydia.” The redhead says, shaking his head with a grip firm from someone looking so delicate.

“I’m Erica.” The other girl says. “I’d say welcome but… there’s nothing welcoming about all this, right?” she adds with a forced and feral smile.

 

Stiles frowns.

 

“Are you human?” he inquires suspiciously.

“One hundred percent, yes. I just finished work, though, but I heard I look… predatory, after work. Quite ironic.”

 

Lydia rolls her eyes and takes a glass he didn’t notice from the small table, bringing the red liquid to her lips.

 

“She’ll look normal tomorrow.” She says, putting the glass down. “No lipstick, no flawless hair…”

“No slutty outfits…” Danny continues, with a playful smile that owes him a punch in the arm.

“Shut up, Danny, you’re the one always wearing tight t-shirts. _Always_.”

 

Stiles shifts uncomfortably. He doesn’t know what to say, what he should or even can say. They seem to know each other since forever and he’s new. New to everything. Lydia probably senses his discomfort because she suddenly turns towards him.

 

“Heard you got Deucalion as your first. He’s rough, so I’m surprised you even got him. Are you experienced?”

“I… don’t know? I checked stuff on the Internet in case it would happen but…”

“You’re never ready for it. So he was your first _first_ , that’s even worse.”

“I don’t think so… Derek didn’t seem to think I was a virgin to begin with.”

 

Stiles bites his lips when he sees the blank faces of the three hookers. Right. He remembers now, how Derek’s sister tensed when he used his first name. So that was really the problem; he can’t say it, at least not inside the house. Danny is the first to recover and sighs with that smile of his Stiles is already used to.

 

“You might wanna not use his name that freely; you never know who can hear. Master Hale is what we usually say when we’re not supposed to be close to them.”

 

Stiles nods and mutters a “thank you”, letting himself go against the back of the sofa. Then they go back to talking and Stiles figures that if he wants to know more about how this place works, he might as well listen. He learns that clients usually make their orders a week before so they can know already on Sunday morning the planning of the week. From what he understands from Lydia’s complaints, Fridays and Saturdays are their most busy and unpredictable days, while the rest of the week mostly counts two or three regulars per day.

 

“What do you do, then, when you don’t have much to do?” Stiles asks. “Can you leave the house?”

 

Erica snorts, rolling her eyes.

 

“They won’t risk it, ninety percent of us would try to escape.”

“Besides, the house is protected. We can’t go out unless a Were allows us to.” Lydia adds. “We come here to talk, read or anything. There’s a pool though it’s sometimes occupied by clients but the computer room is always available.”

“Even though they prevent us from going on some websites – like those against the current politics – or from sending emails.” Danny sighs without conviction and Stiles suspects it’s not really a problem for him.

“Anyway, what’s your story?” Erica exclaims suddenly. “I heard that _Master Hale_ found you but he never recruits, or at least he hasn’t since, well, me five years ago.”

“Five years ago? How old are you?” Stiles wonders, shocked.

“I’m nineteen.” Erica says with a shrug. “I was sold at nine because my parents were poor so I started quite soon. In a terrible house, though, so when the Hales came to visit the whorehouse I was in, I took the opportunity to leave.”

 

Stiles swallows hard. Nine years old. Some people actually do that to kids and it’s absolutely legal. He clenches his fists and tries to calm down before he starts reflecting on his own possible past.

 

“So? You haven’t answered yet.”

“I… got an accident. A car accident with him and I ended up here.”

 

They all stare at him again and Stiles sighs deeply, wondering what he did or said wrong this time.

 

“What now?”

“You were alone? I mean, in the car, it was just you driving?” Lydia finally asks.

“Yeah, I guess? He never mentioned anyone else and I remember being alone with him for a while after the accident and before coming here. Why?”

“Well, it’s not exactly allowed—“ Danny starts before Lydia cuts him off.

“It’s absolutely forbidden for someone of our kind to just be alone outside a Were protection. We can’t even walk in the streets without risking a punishment or worse. So driving alone? I’m surprised they didn’t send you to the police to be interrogated.”

 

Erica narrows her eyes at him and seems to understand something.

 

“Wait. You said that he never _mentioned_ anyone else? Shouldn’t you know if someone was with you in the car?”

 

Stiles looks around but the room is almost empty now, the others apparently having left earlier without him even noticing. He decides to whisper anyway though he can’t understand why he feels that need for it to be secret.

 

“That’s the thing, I don’t remember anything from before the accident. I don’t even know who I am. We just guessed my name was probably Stiles because of my necklace.”

“It must have been a pretty bad accident.” Danny winces, patting his shoulder compassionately.

 

Lydia looks at her glass, turning the still unknown red liquid before frowning.

 

“They should have told us. We could have tried spells on you but it’s been too long now for it to work. I swear to God, _Master Hale_ is a dumbass.”

 

Stiles can’t help but smile at the ironic use of the words Master Hale for the second time already tonight. He wonders though what Derek thinks of that appellation. He imagines him rolling his eyes at it. Stiles sighs internally. He shouldn’t think about Derek, not like this. Besides, Lydia has a point. Why didn’t he try to bring back his memories right away if it was possible? Maybe he didn’t want him to remember his past but, why? To protect him or because he has something to hide? A part of him likes to think it’s because he was too busy taking care of his physical well-being that he forgot about the rest. He chuckles internally at the idea of forgetting an amnesia and realizes he’s obviously too tired to think about this clearly.

 

“We should go to bed.” Danny says after a while, since all of them were lost in their thoughts.

 

They all nod and get up, Lydia downing her glass but not putting it down. She spots him looking at her and smiles knowingly.

 

“It’s wine. Alcohol. Trust me, some days, you’ll need it.”

 

Laughing bitterly at Lydia’s words, Erica leaves and waves them goodbye, Lydia on her tail. Danny stays a bit with Stiles to explain him some rules, like the fact that they must all gather tomorrow morning at eight to check their week’s schedule. Stiles thanks him and goes back to his room – room 513 he remembers at the last minute before opening the room next to his – but it still doesn’t feel like it’s his.

 

***

 

Surprisingly, even though he can’t like his _job_ , Stiles quickly gets used to it. Sure, ranting about it with Lydia during their breaks helps a lot. Actually, just the fact that he can talk to people going through the same things makes it all less unbearable. Lydia, Erica and Danny are though probably the most… rebel ones.

 

Danny, for example, happens to be a hacker and that’s how he learns that people all over the world disagree with the Weres supremacy and is surprised when even powerful Alphas take a stand for Humans and Emissaries in some parts of the world. Danny’s clients seem to be all in love with him and that’s how Stiles realize that Danny is also a huge manipulator behind his dimples. Lydia is apparently known to be the smartest person in the house, if not of the whole country, and her clients come as well for her physical advantages than her conversation. Why she ends up preferring _Jackson_ from all her clients still remains a mystery because, like Erica said once, dude’s a douche canoe. Lydia uses her clients to know everything that happens outside and Stiles swears he saw her pass on a message to one of them once. He also secretly thinks that Lydia is the one who sent Danny to stop him from “moping” but they are denying it. Both are emissaries while Erica, like him, is just human. Yet, it’s from her that he got the most useful tips to survive their jobs. Like that mixture he can make himself and put on after too rough clients. Or how to lie to a werewolf and pretend you actually like what they are doing to you. Erica also has that side of her where she doesn’t wear make-up, or brush her hair into that flawless blonde cascade but instead just tie it up in a messy ponytail, wearing large sweaters and the bunny slippers one of her clients got her some few years ago. It’s usually when she’s like this, relaxed and comfortable, that they talk the most.

 

But there are days when he can’t interact with anyone; he calls them Deucalion Days but the calendar still insists on the word Wednesday. Stiles believed that Deucalion wouldn’t be so difficult to deal with, now that he knows how it is with him. But he is just rough, relentless, heartless. He wants to destroy him, annihilate his will and Stiles can’t let himself do that, give up when he knows what it can do to people. There are some young prostitutes in the house, younger than him, who are so broken and lifeless, it almost makes him cry. Sometimes it really does, especially on Wednesdays. That’s why he can’t let Deucalion win but that’s also why he can’t talk to anyone after their sessions, because it leaves him drained both physically and emotionally.

 

There was that one time where Stiles thought it would be the last straw. When a pack requested him. The whole pack, counting _seven members_ , wanted to fuck him all at once. He was sick until the dreaded Saturday arrived but when it actually happened, it was so exhausting that he felt numb during the entire session. He just did as he was told, trying to please and not thinking. He couldn’t process any logical thought and he knows now that it was probably a good thing. The difference is that they only wanted sex, to fuck the same person together because it was pack bonding or whatever. So they let him breathe when necessary, and the two girls of the pack prepared him for a long time considering that he was going to take in five guys in only two hours. He didn’t enjoy it because it was still awful and degrading, he never does enjoy the sessions anyway, but he could resume with his life afterwards without having to wait twenty-four hours before finally being able to open his mouth without breaking down.

 

So of course, when he sees Derek again, after weeks of silence, it is on a Wednesday evening, less than one hour after Deucalion. Stiles hasn’t cleaned up yet because he can’t even move and Derek just barges in, making him utter a strangled yelp. Stiles stupidly covers himself with the tainted sheets and winces at the sticky contact against his chest. Not that he was clean to begin with but it’s still unpleasant. They stare at each other for one good minute before Stiles finds his words again.

 

“What are you doing here?” he asks, his voice hoarse after screaming so much. “Are you my next client? You weren’t on the planning, I would have noticed…”

 

Stiles blushes and stops himself before saying something embarrassing like “because I’m thinking about you all the time and I miss the days when it was just you and me alone in your room”. Definitely embarrassing. Besides, he should be upset because Derek just disappeared on him after promising to take care of him, because he broke Stiles’ trust when he left.

 

“I’m not here as a client.” Derek says, eyeing the bed with a frown.

“Oh. I—just…” Stiles mutters, scrambling to his feet and yanking off the dirty sheets. “Just let me…”

 

Stiles drops everything in the bathroom, quickly cleans himself and comes back, walking laboriously when his body reminds him what just happened with Deucalion. He realizes too late that he’s still naked, in front of a very clothed Derek now sitting on the edge of the bed that he apparently made meanwhile. He has to remind himself that he said he wasn’t here as a client when he feels the panic rising. He shouldn’t feel like this, not anymore. So what if Derek wanted to fuck him, after all? It wouldn’t that be different, just sex with someone he knows a little more. Misses. And has a crush on maybe, but that’s Lydia’s theory, not his. She thinks that it’s the only thing that can explain why he tries so hard to explain why he hasn’t heard from him. Until now.

 

“Why are you here, then?” Stiles asks again when Derek doesn’t say anything.

“I have things to tell you. But I mostly wanted to see if you were okay.”

“Well, do I look okay?”

 

Derek just shrugs and Stiles grits his teeth, holding back a sarcastic reply. Derek must sense it because he looks up, as if waiting for him to react.

 

“I thought that you of all people in this house would notice if I was okay or not.”

“Why would I? I don’t know you.”

“We were together for one month!” Stiles yells, his voice breaking at the end.

 

He takes his bottle of water on the bedside table and drinks a mouthful, avoiding to look at Derek.

 

“We were together for one month.” He says again. “And suddenly nothing. Just after you promised you would be here for me.”

“So that’s why you’re mad at me.”

 

Stiles turns towards him with wide eyes, disbelieving Derek’s words.

 

“What the hell, Derek? You thought I would welcome you with open arms? Shower you with kisses and flowers? Do you think this is a goddamn fairytale? I’ve been through things you can’t even imagine, I have been fucked against my will more than once, I had johns who made me choke on their dicks just because, and I quote, “I look pretty when I cry”, and here you are, wondering why I am mad at you? Because I trusted you Derek and you let me believe for one second that I could be safe. And I haven’t been safe ever since you left, I have to do things that makes me sick or hate myself to not be hurt and survive. Seriously, Derek? You really don’t understand why I am mad at you? Don’t you know who I was with some minutes ago? Deucalion. Everyone here knows he’s the worst and that’s the one I get. That’s the one I got to start that fucking thing – this is not a pun – and you could have done something about this!”

“I do not owe you _anything_ , Stiles.” Derek almost snarls while standing up all of a sudden, making Stiles backs away against the wall. “You are nothing to me. I did take care of you but I am not going to be here for you all your life, it’s time to fucking grow up.”

“Fuck you, Derek! You owe me and you know it! I wouldn’t be here in the first place if you had been able to keep your werewolf powers under control and did something to prevent the accident. You saved me for your conscience only and I hate to break it to you but it’s all worth nothing if you abandon me. This is not a life, Derek.”

“What do _you_ know about life, Stiles? You don’t even know your own name. Stop your victimization bullshit and start realizing that not everything is about you. I tried to help you but I can’t create that stupid dream for you. You are exactly where you belong and maybe you should just accept it once and for all. Maybe it’ll make everything suddenly easier for your poor little self.”

“Then why didn’t you fuck me, Derek, uh? Why didn’t you use me like your peers do when I was vulnerable in your bed for a whole month? You took care of me, helped me, held me, you showed me that things between our kinds didn’t have to be violent, that I could make choices, express opinions without being killed or punished for it. I can’t accept it because of you, Derek. If you had done what is expected of you, it would have been easier for me! So stop lying to me and yourself when you say that it’s how it should be!”

“Do you really think that things are either black or white? That people are either bad or good?” Derek growls, his hand sharply reaching for Stiles’ throat, fingers digging in the boy’s pale skin. “Am I just supposed to hurt you because I’m the bad guy and you are one of the good ones? Stop kidding yourself, your kind is as bad as mine; vicious, corrupted and pretentious, always thinking that you should have more, that you deserve better…”

“If you hate me so much, stop tiptoeing around and hurt me yourself instead of having others doing it.” Stiles murmurs, his own hand coming up around Derek’s wrist. “Come on, do it, just squeeze, choke me, _kill me_.”

“If I wanted you dead, I would have let you die on that road. And I won’t hurt you just because it fuels your victim fetish.”

“You are hurting me right now.” Stiles retorts. “And you are doing it without me asking for it.”

 

Derek slowly withdraws his hand but Stiles keeps his on Derek’s wrist, his heart beating madly when the werewolf’s eyes flash blue without even looking down on Stiles’ hand. Stiles licks his lips and stares back anyway, not letting go.

 

“I think you want to hurt me but because it upsets you that you treat me differently, that you care about me. You don’t like owing me but you didn’t have to save me in the first place.”

“What do you suggest?” Derek asks, his voice low.

“I could be yours. You could claim me.”

“Why would I do that?”

“Do you like it when others hurt me? Make me cry?”

 

Derek averts his eyes and Stiles decides to come closer. He knows he is playing a dangerous game but he doesn’t have much to lose at this point. Derek claiming him is Lydia’s idea. When Lydia first said it, it sounded like a crazy and repulsive idea. Being claimed is the same as being owned, it is like becoming someone’s personal pet. He hates the whole concept but he is also aware that anyone can claim him. Deucalion could; the first time when he bit him was a warning. And if he ever decides to do it, Stiles doesn’t know if he could survive it. Then he thought about it more and more and he could actually see being Derek’s. Not just because of that crush. He knows how it is to be with him and it felt safe. He’s not a big fan of sex, that’s certain, but Derek doesn’t seem fond of it himself. Though, right now, it would be great if he could feel like wanting him.

 

“No. I don’t.” Derek finally says, looking up again. “But do you really think you’re worth being claimed by anyone?”

 

The words hurt and Stiles knows deep down he should say something, but he stays silent and wait for Derek to continue.

 

“Do you realize how weak it makes you sound? To beg for protection like you do?”

“I am weak, I need to be protected and I’m aware of that. I’m being selfish but that’s still what I want. And I’ll do anything to get it.”

“Oh, really? Show me what you can give me and then, maybe I’ll consider claiming you.” Derek whispers, the ghost of a joyless smile on his lips.

“How about you just take what you want from me?”

 

Stiles holds his breath while Derek stares at him, his jaw clenched. That’s why Stiles lets out a silent surprised shout when the werewolf suddenly lifts him up and presses him against the mattress. Derek takes off his t-shirt and Stiles reaches to his jeans, fumbling with its zip. But then Derek grips his neck to kiss him and he realizes he’s never been kissed, not in this life at least, and it feels so good; Derek’s tongue sucking on his, exploring his mouth and licking his lower lip. Stiles finds himself moaning without meaning to and tries to focus on unzipping his pants. When he finally succeeds, Derek shoves them down along with his briefs and presses Stiles on the covers again.

 

Lost in the kiss, Stiles barely notices when Derek hands slides down against his thighs, touching him with something that feels like _love_ , as if the werewolf actually cared about him. It’s something he never had here and he doesn’t know if it’s right, if Derek expects him to do something. He tells himself that he doesn’t have to pretend with Derek since he knows him well already. He knows he’s not the submissive kind, that he doesn’t keep silent when something upsets him. But for the first time, he feels shy right now, under Derek’s gentle touch. He even whines when Derek breaks the kiss, which owes him an almost amused smile that he can feel against his neck where he is biting him.

 

That shouldn’t be so arousing but it is. Everything about this is and makes him beg for more even though he doesn’t know what he wants to be increased; Derek’s kisses, his gentle caresses or just all at once. Maybe what he wants is more, he wants him to finally take him, make him _his_. Stiles blushes. _His_. That was a bit possessive. Derek buries his head in Stiles’ shoulder and breathes in. The boy can hear himself beg for more but Derek hushes him with a kiss.

 

Stiles doesn’t know how much time has passed. Everything around him is all a blur and his fingers are digging desperately in Derek’s forearms to anchor himself and keep himself conscious. It’s stupid to feel that way when absolutely _nothing_ is happening but it’s Derek; Derek kissing him, holding him, caressing him. It’s nothing but it’s too much at the same time, he wants more but he doesn’t want that soft moment to ever stop. It’s enough to make his heart beat madly.

 

“Are we going to… make love?” Stiles asks, uncertain after a while.

“No.” Derek sighs. “It’s not a good idea.”

“But you undressed me.”

“I did.”

“And you won’t take me?”

“It’s not a good idea.”

“I heard that. Why?” Stiles frowns.

 

Derek shrugs, looking at him thoughtfully.

 

“If we do it… let’s try to make this happen somewhere else or for another reason. A good reason, sex isn’t about taking something from someone else.”

“What would be a good reason for you?”

“I let you figure that one out. Either way, we’re not doing it on that bed, I can still smell Deucalion all over it.”

 

Stiles pouts and Derek kisses him again with a smirk.

 

“Are you going to claim me, then?” Stiles whispers against Derek’s lips.

“I just did.” He retorts, fingers brushing the new bite mark on Stiles’ shoulder.

 

***

 

Stiles wakes up in Derek’s arms and feels strangely relieved. Maybe he was scared that he would leave him again and only realizes it now. Lydia might be right, about his crush. Everything about what happened last night is still vivid in his mind but he still feels the need to touch the mark on his right shoulder as a proof that it’s not a dream.

 

Derek claimed him. He will never have sex with anyone else without wanting to. Weirdly, he trusts Derek not to take advantage of him, he’s even sure of it. And yet he doesn’t feel bad about the things he said to him, the things they said to each other because he knows that Derek is right too, just not on everything.

 

When Stiles presses a kiss on his jaw, Derek wakes up, blinking his eyes lazily. Stiles smiles.

 

“You’re supposed to be a predator, who allowed you to be so damn cute?”

“I am not cute.” Derek grumbles in a groggy voice.

“Keep telling yourself that.”

“I can be very predatory.”

 

Stiles does not giggle at Derek’s vexed frown, absolutely not. He does though beams when he leans to kiss Derek and he kisses him back.

 

“I like kissing.” He admits with a content sigh.

“Yeah, really?” Derek raises an eyebrow sarcastically. “Why do you make it sound like a discovery?”

“Because it is one, dumbass. Clients aren’t the kissy kind.”

“Well, I am more a lover than a client so that helps.” Derek mumbles, closing his eyes.

“We are lovers? Can we be lovers? Are we, like, _in love_?”

 

Maybe it’s offensive that Derek only opens his eyes to roll them.

 

“No we’re not, Stiles.”

“Then we’re like friends with benefits?”

“We’re not friends. And we didn’t even have sex.”

“How are we going to define our brand new relationship, then? Not so strangers with an unbreakable bond? Sex partners in the making? Oh, I like this one, it sounds like a porn version of those TV shows with inspectors and shit that Danny watches, you know, with those dudes that are so into each other while solving crimes and there’s that sexual tension every time they look at each other.”

“I am starting to regret this.”

“Go ahead. I’ll be happy for the both of us.”

“Shut up and sleep.”

 

Stiles curls up against Derek and obliges, his mind buzzing. He doesn’t fully fall asleep so he can feel when, around one hour later, his werewolf – which is now a correct appellation – leaves the bed slowly, as if he doesn’t want to wake him up. He can hear him take a shower and the sound of cloth afterwards, letting him understand Derek is getting dressed. It’s only when he hears the door closing that he abruptly gets up, cleans himself in less than one minute and decides than a t-shirt and socks are enough to go outside, especially if he wants to be able to follow Derek. He does take yesterday’s jeans in case he finds time to look decent at some point during his stalking.

 

Finding Derek isn’t hard, everyone is still asleep in the house so he can actually hear his steps. Which makes him think that he must be lost in his thoughts if he can’t hear Stiles tiptoeing despite his supernatural hearing. He follows him until the floor where he knows Derek’s room must be but that’s not where he stops. No, instead he keeps going 3 doors further and knocks. He hears a feminine voice that he recognizes as Laura’s telling him to enter and when Derek does, Stiles finally allows himself to come closer. He wants to press his ear against the door but they would probably notice him so, instead, he holds his breath and waits until one of them finally talks.

 

He doesn’t have to wait a long time. Two minutes later, a voice he never heard yells but, considering the authority in the tone, Stiles thinks it must be Derek’s mother, the main Alpha of the house.

 

“You _claimed_ him?” she almost roars. “That worthless human?”

 

Stiles frowns but stays put. When he doesn’t hear Derek’s voice, he can imagine his usual “so what?” eyebrow raise and smiles.

 

“Say something!” and this time it’s Laura. “We didn’t even approve of him and you claimed him!”

“I didn’t realize I needed your approval in my personal life.”

“After last time’s disaster?! I can’t believe you claimed someone else to begin with, considering how bad you are when it comes to relationships!”

“Stop with Humans, Derek. Find yourself a nice werewolf in the city but don’t forget that Humans aren’t meant to be loved, they are only here for our pleasure or to spend our time.”

“I am not in love.” Derek says and Stiles can almost hear his eye-roll. “I wouldn’t have had to claim him if you didn’t betray me and my trust by having him serve as a prostitute in the house as soon as I was away. What did you think? That I would see the light when I came back?”

“It was for your own good, Derek, you always get attached too fast and that kid could have used you. Here’s the proof, he had you claim him!” Laura snarls.

“You need to stop. Both of you. I claimed him, now, and if you touch one of his hairs, I won’t hesitate to defend him. Even if that means hurting my own family.”

“See? Your sister is right! You let him get under your skin and turn you against your own kind!”

“This is all your doing!” Derek bawls before carrying on in a cold voice. “Cora is right, you don’t even realize how cruel you both have become. You make us look like monsters, you even act like monsters and keep blaming everyone but yourselves. He has amnesia, for God’s sake! He’s confused, trying to adjust and he wasn’t even fully healed when you decided to feed him to Deucalion. Deucalion, whose hobby is to break people and prove his superiority by doing it! Just when exactly did you think it was a good idea? There’s only _one_ person worse than Deucalion in our community! Only one!”

 

There’s a long silent afterwards and even Stiles forgets that he’s holding his breath. Then he hears the sound of a chair creaking, like someone standing up.

 

“I’ll leave soon.” Derek says. “I don’t know for how long but I’m taking Stiles with me since I obviously can’t trust my own family. I am willing to be forgiving but you will have to give me time. And I think that letting me go without trying to stop me would be a good start if you ever want to see me again.”

 

The door opens and Derek’s eyes fall on Stiles immediately when he closes it behind him but he only looks half-surprised. He gestures to follow him and Stiles nods, biting his lip. They go back in the room 513 and Derek sighs loudly, sitting on the messy covers.

 

“I didn’t know that you… didn’t know.” Stiles finally says while putting on his jeans he was still carrying in his hands.

 

When Derek doesn’t answer, Stiles goes to sit on his lap, straddling him with his legs. Derek hands slowly moves up along his back before embracing his waist so Stiles allows himself to stroke his stubble, his hands cupping his face.

 

“Thanks. For claiming me and all.” He whispers, lips brushing Derek’s before kissing him lightly, surprised by how easy it is for him to do this, those little acts of affection.

 

He knows that the claiming cannot change their behaviors, he made enough researches to know that, but he’s starting to think that it does make him feel more confident when it comes to physical contact, probably because he also wants to comfort him somehow. He owes him that much. Or maybe he just wants to.

 

Derek nods, nuzzling Stiles’ throat before speaking, his voice sounding tired.

 

“You should go downstairs and see your friends. You never know when you’ll see them again. I’ll pack our things while you’re at it.”

“When are we leaving?” Stiles inquires, though what he really wonders is _where_ they’re going.

 

Derek looks up with a determined expression.

 

“Tomorrow.” He says after a while. “The sooner, the better.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I just wanted to thank y'all for your kudos and/or comments, they are much appreciated!! :)


	3. Memory

“So… Now that we’re in an established relationship… will knotting be a thing?”

 

Derek gives him a pained expression and goes back to putting their bags in the trunk of his repaired Camaro. Stiles sighs and runs his fingers along the black metallic hood, looking for flaws but, no, the car looks brand-new. He starts wondering what his own car looks like and ends up realizing that he doesn’t even know what kind of car he has. Nothing as amazing as this, that’s for sure. Whatever, he’s not even sure that he still have a car after the accident anyway and he doesn’t see the point in asking if he ends up not remembering how to drive.

 

“You haven’t answered.”

“Seriously, Stiles? Knotting? You should stop reading Erica’s books.”

 

Stiles rolls his eyes, blushing. He doesn’t want to know how Derek heard about Erica’s books and worse, that he knows Stiles read them.

 

“It’s glorious literature, okay? Full of romance and impossible relationships where couples make out on sandy beaches at the end, sunsets in the background... I think it’s beautiful.”

“I think you should shut up.” Derek grumbles, closing the trunk.

“We should go on a beach, you and I. I want to see a beach and the ocean and all.”

 

Derek stares at him and nods before going in the car. Stiles translates this as “yeah, maybe if you’re well-behaved” so he decides to be nice during the trip. He doesn’t look back at the house – mansion, really – even though people that he considers friends are in it.  They were happy for him, anyway, and Lydia told him some cryptic things like “we will see each other sooner than you think” and Stiles isn’t sure if she was threatening him or letting him see a glimpse of her incoming escape plan. Erica was all dreamy-like when he told her Derek claimed him, telling him how lucky he was to finally be one with the man he loved and, yeah, he didn’t say anything to deny it in fear of crushing her dreams. He knows she’s in a relationship with a werewolf but he never saw him. From what he knows, the guy seems to be nice and caring but, being only a Beta from a low family, he can’t just claim her, he needs Talia’s authorization first. Danny though, when he heard about Derek and him, just laughed and patted his shoulder with a wink. Stiles just doesn’t want to know what went through his mind but a part of him is aware that it must have to do with Erica’s novels and, NO, he’s not like those enamored girls and boys waiting for their werewolf prince to ravish them.

 

Even though he has been ravished just fine earlier that day. Ravished in two different ways by two different werewolves but he’s more than willing to get amnesia again when it comes to Deucalion. So, no, he’s not going to look back, he’s going to look forward. The sky for example is so much more interesting. So far, he only knew the starry sky from the night of the accident. Now it’s dawn and he can’t help but be amazed by all the different warm colors slowly leaving to let a bright blue take place.

 

“Come on.” Derek says opening the door for him from inside and Stiles reluctantly gets in.

 

Derek starts the car then and Stiles can fill the burden on his heart getting lighter while they get closer to the gates. He lets out a little sigh when they open and sinks in the comfortable leather seat. They don’t say anything, until Derek stops at Beacon Hills to refuel and allows Stiles to look for snacks in the shop. It’s a very stressful experience, actually, to be alone in front of food he never heard about. They always got the same meal every day in the house but now, he’s faced to too many choices and he didn’t know it was even possible. When Derek comes behind him and puts a hand on his waist, he still doesn’t know what to pick.

 

“What should I do, Derek?” he moans with a pout. “I don’t know what to do.”

“Well, it looks like having choices isn’t that easy for you, in the end…”

“Keep your sassy mouth to yourself, _honey_.”

 

Stiles can feel Derek’s laugh vibrating against his back where he is pressed and closes his eyes to appreciate it. He knows it’s not going to be that peaceful forever.

 

“Anyway, why don’t you just pick several things and see what you like afterwards. Your medical records showed no allergies.”

“Okay… Wait, my what?”

“Jennifer got a sample of your blood to make tests and eventually find out who you are. You’re not in any database so you’re neither a criminal nor have you ever been to the hospital. But apart from an eventual ADHD, you’re healthy.”

“What’s ADHD?”

“Hyperactivity. We’ll see a friend of mine about this when we arrive in L.A. So far you’ve been pretty calm, though, so… it’s weird.”

“So that’s where we’re going. Los Angeles.”

 

Derek nods and lets go of his waist. Stiles decides to follow his advice and picks stuff randomly before following him to pay. They go back in the car and the silence goes back as well for a while before Derek sighs.

 

“What is it?”

“Nothing. Nothing important.”

 

Stiles looks at him though, waiting for him to go on and Derek eventually does.

 

“It’s just… my mother and Laura, they used to be caring persons, you know. We treated emissaries and humans correctly, before. Then one of them tried to kill our family, almost succeeded and they changed.”

“The fire.” Stiles remembers from his researches. “An emissary did it?”

 

Derek nods and tightens his grip on the steering wheel.

 

“My father died that day. It changed them. It changed all of us, really, but those two the most.”

“Do you have other family members left? You mentioned Cora. She’s your other sister, right?”

“Yes, we’re going to see her. I also have an uncle left but he’s… a bit crazy.”

“Guess we’re not going to see him, then.”

“Hopefully not.” Derek winces. “But that’s not always up to us.”

 

Stiles wonders if that means that Derek’s uncle is just going to appear out of nowhere. He hopes not, considering how Derek reacts at the simple thought of him. He reminds himself that he’s supposed to be well-behaved and focus his attention on the snacks they bought to start trying them. The funny thing is that some do taste familiar so he knows he used to eat stuff like that. He organizes the empty wrappings from his most favorite to less favorite…

 

“Is there a synonym for favorite?” Stiles asks himself aloud.

“What?”

“Okay so this one up here is the one I prefer so far and this is the one I still like but not that much. So the first is my favorite but the last one is too but less. That’s why I need a synonym.”

“So you can pick your favorite favorite synonym?”

 

Stiles narrows his eyes at him and punches him on the arm.

 

“You are a terrible… mate, that’s what you are.”

“What did I say about Erica’s novels?”

“I can’t remember exactly, something about how much you liked them?”

“We’ll be in L.A. in one hour, can you shut up until then?”

“I can _try_ but I make no promises.”

 

Derek mumbles something along the lines of “shithead” and Stiles sniggers before Derek punches him in the arm as well. That was painful. But probably deserved so Stiles does shut up. For maybe ten minutes.

 

“I’ve been thinking…”

“When do you not?” Derek sighs, eyes on the road.

“It’s personal this time, please humor me.”

“Yeah, well, when do _I_ not?”

“Fair enough. I was just wondering if, two nights ago… I mean… What you wanted from me, what was it?”

“What do you mean?”

“Well, it started like… sex or something but you didn’t do it. Are you really into it? Sex, I mean.”

 

Derek nods after a while.

 

“You’re right. I am not particularly into sex.” He admits, tone surprised as if he didn’t expect Stiles to notice it. “But I did want you.”

“Then you could have done it. You started but stopped. If the circumstances were right for you, would you have done it?”

“Well, you seemed to want it. Not just the claim but the sex part as well. You smelled like you wanted me to do it. So, yes, under better circumstances I guess I would have.”

 

Stiles opens his mouth to protest but Derek shoots him a look that says “don’t bother denying it” and, okay, maybe just having sex with Derek would have been enough for a while.

 

“And maybe I was upset and let myself being controlled by my emotions before I could stop.”

“Yeah, I noticed.” Stiles confirms with an amused smile.

“Why, though? It’s not like you’re fond of it either.”

“I don’t really know. You’re kinda hot and… maybe I wanted to do it with someone I like? Not like-like but more… someone I appreciate? It didn’t feel forced and I liked the whole arguing and seducing part beforehand. It almost made me feel normal for a while, you know.”

“You could have done it with one of your friends, then.”

“Meh, they’re my friends, it would have been weird! Besides, they aren’t Weres.”

“So it had to be me?”

“Well, you fit all the criteria. You also have that whole hot everything going on for you.”

 

Derek snorts and rolls his eyes but Stiles knows he’s flattered.

 

“So I probably won’t mind if you let your emotions control you again, if you know what I mean.”

“As long as you want it too.” Derek retorts with a frown. “Even though I guess I’ll be able to smell it, you’re not exactly discreet.”

“It’s not like I control the way I _smell_. Ugh, okay, for some things I can, don’t look at me like I’m an idiot.”

 

They finally arrives at Cora’s a bit after lunchtime but Stiles is too busy staring at the tall buildings in awe. He can’t help but feel incredibly small while walking in such a big city. Beacon Hills had already been a little shock but they only stopped at the gas station so he couldn’t really be aware of it. Derek has to push him towards the door, a hand on Stiles’ back, to make him move. And even then, Stiles still looks up. Derek sighs, relieved when they get inside and Stiles shrugs, unashamed. They take the stairs until Cora’s door on the fourth floor and Stiles looks around while Derek knocks. There are only two doors per stair, which seems weird for him after the Hale house.

 

The door opens on a girl who looks like a younger Laura, with the same brown hair and eyes but also the same determined expression. Stiles almost wants to turn back but Derek gestures for him to come in so he plucks up courage and enters the apartment. He immediately sees another girl sitting on the grey sofa and she stands up to greet them. She has Asian features, a slender silhouette and her face is surrounded by long wavy black hair. She gives off a welcoming feeling in contrast with Cora’s annoyed look.

 

“I’m Kira.” She says with a smile and Stiles guesses from the name and his recent knowledge that she must be Japanese. “You must be Stiles.”

“No it’s Derek, he just went through a dramatic operation.” Cora deadpans but Kira ignores her to shake Stiles’ hand.

“What are you doing here?” Derek asks, taking off his jacket.

“Cora wanted my help for your boy. That you claimed, I didn’t know! Congratulations, I’m glad to see you found someone after Jennifer in the end!”

“Yeah, let’s hope this one will not try to kill you!” Cora adds with a smile that doesn’t reach her eyes. “Anyway, Kira was telling me her friend Scott heard about a Stiles.”

 

Stiles frowns and sits down in the living room with the others. Scott. The name sounds familiar but he can’t explain why.

 

“He couldn’t tell me more about what he knew, and Isaac stayed silent too, but I think he might know more, he’s just hiding something… Maybe to protect you?” Kira says, looking at him with a curious expression. “Does the name Scott McCall ring a bell?”

“I—It’s possible? I think it does yeah but I can’t picture anything…”

 

Cora bites her lip and looks up towards Derek.

 

“You think what I think?”

“I hope not.” Derek sighs. “But I guess I will have to see him and see for myself if it’s possible.”

“See who?” Stiles inquires, confused. “Scott?”

“No, his owner, my uncle Peter I told you about.”

 

Peter. That name does more than just ring a bell, it echoes in his entire body and makes him feel nauseous. Peter Hale. He knows him, he is _afraid_ of him.

 

“Are you okay?” Kira asks, a worried look on her face but Stiles can’t hear her, it’s like her voice is muffled.

 

He feels like he’s drowning and breathing becomes impossible. Then it’s dark.

 

***

 

_Stiles closes his eyes and can feel Scott’s hand in his, trying to reassure him. He doesn’t get it, Scott should be the one in need of a hug right now but, well, it’s Scott, it’s in his nature. Even after all this. Stiles lets out a shaky breath._

_“He knows, Scott. Peter knows about Alli, I heard him last night and he was so mad, I never saw him like this before. What if he kills her? What if he finds out about me too?”_

_“You’ve been careful so far. And Allison can still run away, she’s strong.”_

_“Peter’s stronger.” Stiles retorts, looking up to his best friend without being able to see him, his eyes blurred by his tears. “Remember what he did to your dad.”_

_Scott’s grip on his hand tightens but it’s immediately followed by a gentle stroke with his thumb._

_“I do. That’s why I’m not gonna lose you too. We’ll be fine.”_

_Then it’s all black again. Stiles can hear voices above him, thinks he recognizes Derek but also voices he doesn’t know. He feels a hand on his shoulder, shaking him and he turns slowly, opening his eyes to see a dark room barely lighted by dying candles._

_He’s been here for a while, he can feel it; his whole body is sore and can’t move. The man turns him completely so he’s lying on his back. Stiles averts his eyes when he spreads his legs, going inside him without difficulty since he’s already the fifth one tonight. He doesn’t want to see them, doesn’t want to know who they are. For him, they are all the same, thirsty monsters riding him again and again. It’s a circle, it never ends and never will. Just because of_ him _. Because Peter likes it, likes to see him being fucked until he can’t think or even react, until he’s too exhausted to give but can only receive._

_Stiles crosses Peter’s blue gaze and tightens his lips. He knows it’s far from over by the way Peter’s looking at him. He’s going to be fucked senseless later, after all his clients. Like every night. Sometimes he likes to take him over the ridiculous amount of money he won thanks to him but that’s only when he’s in a good mood. Oh, Stiles knows when Peter is mad, he learnt how to read his smiles and what they hide. That’s how he can tell that it’s not going to be nice tonight. Maybe he’ll bleed, maybe he’ll have to fight to breathe. Maybe both if Peter feels like it._

_“You’re my favorite, you know that, right?” Peter whispers later, still deep inside him, lips against his ear. “But I’d have to hurt you if you betray me. You must understand that.”_

_Stiles’ heart was already beating madly and hopefully his panting hides the start Peter’s words give him. He knows. He has to. Peter only threatens when he knows he has a reason to._

_“Do you? Do you understand?” Peter asks in feral voice, fingers digging so deep it makes Stiles’ sides bleed._

_“I do.” He chokes, catching his breath. “I do.” He says again, almost pleading for mercy._

_Peter’s lips turns up into a pleased smile._

 

***

 

Stiles wakes up screaming and crying but he can’t remember why. Right now he feels caged and he wants to escape. It takes him a long time of fighting and sobbing before he realizes the arms around him are Derek’s and not…

 

“Peter.” He whispers.

 

Derek nods, still holding him closely and Stiles starts to relax in his embrace.

 

“What happened? Where are we?”

“Cora’s room. You panicked and fainted after hearing his name.”

“She’s okay with us cuddling in her room?”

“I wouldn’t call this cuddling and she’s at her girlfriend’s for the night, she said you needed space but I think she means _she_ needs space. She never liked crowded homes.”

“Her girlfriend… Kira? I can’t really see them together…”

“They used to be together, though. But it’s another girl I never met.”

 

Stiles can feel his heart finally beating at a normal pace and he’s aware that Derek slowly drawing circles on his forearm helps him, that he subconsciously started to follow it’s soothing rhythm.

 

“Don’t worry, I’ll leave when you fall asleep.”

“Come on, Derek, we almost _slept_ together and I was willing, like a lot. I know you’re not your uncle, you can stay with me.”

“Feel like talking about this?”

“I feel like cuddling for real, actually.” Stiles says with a sigh so Derek takes the covers to wrap them under. “It’s just… hard to remember.”

“But you think you know him, don’t you? My uncle is in your past.”

 

Stiles shrugs and intertwines their fingers instead of answering. The truth is that everything is too blurry in his head right now but the few glimpses he gets of his memories aren’t pretty. Derek uses his free hand to wipe the tears on his cheeks. Stiles bites his lip.

 

“I feel so weak, it’s frustrating.”

“You’re confused, maybe remembering will make you stronger.”

“Or more scared. His name… Peter. I felt fear when I heard it.”

“And you should. He’s dangerous and twisted.”

“More than Deucalion?”

“Sometimes, yeah.” Derek replies, thoughtful. “They’re friends so they must have things in common.”

“If I asked you to fuck that sick feeling out of me, would you?”

“No.”

 

Stiles chuckles and turns around to press a kiss against Derek’s jaw.

 

“Glad to know I’m being taken care of by the sane Hale.”

“And hottest.” Derek adds with a smug smile. “Do you think you can sleep?”

“I honestly don’t know. I feel tired and I want to but I’m afraid of nightmares.”

“They’re just dreams, I’ll wake you up.”

“My knight in shining armor.” Stiles sighs with a loving tone.

 

He can see Derek’s judgmental eyebrow rising out of the corner of his eye and laughs. He is thankful for the werewolf’s promises to save him but it’s something he’ll never admit out loud. Besides, last time Derek promised to take care of him, he ended up being… well, he met Deucalion. This time, Peter is the one around and… Stiles swallows and closes his eyes. He tries to dream about his friends back in the house instead but it’s as if the name Peter triggered something in his mind. He keeps having blurred scenes of a past that is his but feels foreign. All of a muscular werewolf with eyes always bright blue, almost electric but cold, so cold. He has feelings of death, pain, sorrow, all caused by one person.

He doesn’t dream of Scott anymore after that one scene and that worries him. Thanks to Kira, he knows the boy – his best friend? – is alive but how is he really? There’s also the girl, Alli. He tries to dream of her but can’t, his mind apparently still blocking some memories. But there’s that scream and something tells him it’s her.

He doesn’t wake up in Derek’s arms this time and he can’t understand why it worries him so much. Oh, yeah, he knows. Peter. What if he found them? What if he took Derek to punish him for whatever fucked up reason? He remembers now that everything he went through before the accident was because Peter always found a new reason to hurt people around him. No wonder the other Hales avoid him. Stiles buries his head between his knees and tries to breathe. He needs to calm down. Derek is fine. Derek is probably in the kitchen making breakfast because Derek has always been a light sleeper. Derek is fine.

Stiles abruptly gets up and just notices he’s only wearing one of Derek’s t-shirt over his briefs. He frowns slightly, touching the clothing without remembering when exactly he changed. Was he already wearing it when he first woke up during the night? Shaking his head, Stiles leaves the room to find Derek, who is indeed in the kitchen. He hides his relieved sigh behind a dramatic yawn that owes him an eyebrow raise from Derek.

 

“You know I could hear you panic when you woke up, right?”

“I—Yeah? So what? I’m tired so I’m yawning.”

 

Derek gives him a “I’m not having any of your bullshit but I’m going to humor you” look.

 

“Right. Coffee’s ready. Cora called, she’s going to come later to take you to my friend I told you about.”

“Oh right, the doc one?” Stiles remembers, taking the mug Derek offers him. “I figured since he’s supposed to check if I need meds.”

“Technically, he’s a veterinarian. But yes.”

“What can he do for me, then?”

 

Derek takes a sip of his own coffee before answering, gesturing for them to sit in the living room.

 

“He’s an emissary.”

“Damn, for a Were, you do hang out with many Emissaries.”

“I could feel the judgmental caps locks in there. And Deaton’s different, he used to be the one my family went to see for advice or help. My mother respects him so she sometimes sends Laura or me to talk to him when necessary, even after the fire.”

“Why not Cora? She already lives here.”

“It’s complicated.”

“What about Jennifer? Is she an old family friend too?”

“No. She’s my ex-girlfriend.”

 

Stiles gapes at him while Derek drinks his coffee innocently, checking the newspaper. Not as if he just said he had dated an emissary. No big deal.

 

“Weres can _date_ emissaries?” Stiles finally aks.

“Not really. It’s frowned upon so those who do must do it secretly.”

“Why aren’t you with her anymore?”

“We weren’t in love, among other things. And I just don’t think relationships with emissaries are for me.”

“How about humans? Can you be in a relationship with a normal human?”

“Why, are you interested?” Derek retorts looking up from his newspaper.

 

Stiles is still looking for a witty reply when the front door opens, Cora coming in while repressing a yawn.

 

“I hope you guys didn’t have sex in my bed.”

 

Derek rolls his eyes and stands up to greet her. He tells her about Stiles remembering Peter and Stiles stays silent, drinking his coffee. He forgot to tell Derek what he exactly remembers, now. Not everything is clear but most things are just obvious. He should say something but he’s ashamed to tell anything in front of Cora whom he barely knows. He’s not even sure he really wants to tell Derek what he saw. A part of him is aware that he shouldn’t be ashamed of things that were done to him but another part hopes he could have seen himself fight back instead of just _enduring_. He needs to know that, at some point in his life, he actually did something. But maybe it’s a feeling everyone else has, at least amongst humans. Emissaries have that powerful vibe, as if they know something you don’t, a secret to balance everything. Or maybe that’s just how they play it: act dangerous to stay alive, pretend to know something so Weres treat them well. Or at least let them live.

Stiles looks up when he feels Derek’s eyes on him and follows him into the bedroom. While Derek makes the bed, Stiles goes to take a quick shower. He needs the water to cleanse him more than ever now. Now that he knows that Derek was right. It has been like this for him already a while ago. He just feels so tainted and doesn’t know how to get rid of that feeling. He stops showering when his eyes start tingling. He’s not going to cry, not again. Derek is sitting on the bed when he comes back, clean and dressed.

 

“I told Cora you had things to tell me, she’s waiting in the car.”

 

Stiles nods and sits next to him. He takes a deep breath before starting, explaining what he thinks he remembers about Scott and another girl who was, hopefully still is, their friend. Then he tells him what he knows for sure. About Peter. How he treated him, what he liked to do to him, with him. He says that he used to say Stiles was his favorite and Derek frowns.

 

“He didn’t claim you, though.”

 

Stiles shrugs. He’s not going to mind that. Besides, it’s probably because Peter likes to see others fuck him as much as he likes to do it himself. He tells Derek what he thinks but it only makes him frown harder.

 

“Yeah, well, I probably will have to avoid that subject when I start the conversation with him.”

“What do you mean? You’re going to see him? Are you crazy?”

“I don’t especially want to. But he’s an Alpha, _my_ Alpha, I need to be honest with him and now we know you used to be his.”

“But I’m _yours_ now!” Stiles exclaims, distressed. “Can’t I just be yours, can’t it be just us? We could leave for a while.”

“Do you want him to hear it from my mother? He’s going to hunt us down and I’m not strong enough to protect you all by myself. I don’t want to risk this unless we have to. And don’t you want to know if your friend is okay? You can’t go there, but I can.”

 

Stiles sighs and crosses his arms. Of course he wants to know more about Scott, know if he’s okay. But that doesn’t mean he wants Derek to risk his life for that. He doesn’t want _anyone_ around him risking his life. He tries to tell himself that Derek doesn’t look worried so it should be fine but, well, Derek never looks worried. The more emotions he saw of him was the night when they first slept together, actually. Maybe it’s a Were thing. But Stiles thinks it’s more of a Derek thing than anything.

 

“Anyway, I’ll drive both of you to Deaton’s. Cora will stay with you, just in case. Come on.”

 

The drive to Deaton’s is quiet. Stiles is looking through the window but doesn’t really see the city. It’s like things keep getting worse since the accident. Every time he thinks Derek and him are going to be able to stay in a safe cocoon, the reality of his life catches up with him. The reality being probably that he tried to escape from Peter with Scott, and maybe Isaac, somehow covering him. He can understand why he would try to escape but why without Scott? Or that girl he called Alli? He remembers Scott calling her Allison but it doesn’t help him more. It feels weird that he can’t remember anything about her apart from this. Worse, her name didn’t sound familiar like Scott’s. Or Peter’s.

 

Cora nudges him when they arrive and they both get out the car. Stiles watches Derek’s car go and turns to Cora who gives him an eye-roll. Stiles follows her into the modest animal clinic and they wait five minutes before a man who must be Deaton comes to greet them with a quiet smile. Considering what Derek said about his mother respecting him, Stiles didn’t expect to see an average man with brown skin and emanating such _calm_. Not that he expected a monster twice his size with green skin or something. But maybe. No, this man just looks normal, for an emissary. Only the fact that he doesn’t seem to be accompanied by a Were tells him that he shouldn’t be judging a book by its cover.

 

“Derek told me you’d come.” He says with a voice as calm as his expression when they get inside his office. “So, tell me what the problem is.”

“Uhm… Derek said I might have ADHD and…”

“No, not this. The real problem at hand. He talked about amnesia.”

“Oh. This.” Stiles says slowly, Cora snorting behind him.

 

So he starts his story, from the accident to now but he leaves out some details. Like basically everything, especially those concerning what he did in the house. The man probably knows already and, well, he doesn’t seem to care about things that aren’t related to the amnesia. What really interests him is how his latest memories were triggered.

 

“You say that you heard Peter’s name and had flashbacks?”

“More like he peed his pants on my carpet and Derek changed him because he was sweating like a pig.”

 

Stiles narrows his eyes at her but, at least, now he knows why he was wearing Derek’s t-shirt in the morning. It’s not like it worried him since it was _Derek’s_ but he has enough memory losses already.

 

“Well, I don’t remember panicking. I just had a hard time breathing and then everything went black and it was like… drowning in memories.”

“Interesting. Very interesting.”

 

Stiles and Cora watch him leave in the other room and frown when they hear a concert of meows.

 

“Is he going to make me pet a magical cat or something?” Stiles wonders, making Cora snort.

“If he could, he would.”

“Cora, can you help me carry the bath?” They hear Deaton asks some few seconds later.

“A bath?” Stiles repeats, incredulous, but Cora just shrugs before going to help him.

 

They both come back with a small aluminum bath and several bags full of ice. Stiles unconsciously takes a step back.

 

“Are you going to kill me?”

“I usually don’t do this on Humans but… it can help to find what you’re looking for. You just have to get inside the bath, I’ll do most of the work.”

“Yeah? What exactly are you going to do?”

“Guide you towards your memories. You can ask Cora how it works; she had to do it too once.”

 

Cora nods, filling the bathtub with cold water while talking.

 

“Don’t worry it’s painful at the very beginning but afterwards… you’re just lost in your memories and don’t feel anything.”

“Why did you do it, though?”

“It’s personal.”

 

Stiles goes to help Deaton with the ice bags. A part of him really wants to know why she had to go through this. He thinks it must be related to the fire but he’s not sure; she seems to lead a very different life than the rest of the Hales. Besides, if it’s the fire, she must have retrieved terrible memories.

 

He undresses when the bath is ready, keeping his jeans and briefs on before getting inside. Cora’s right, it’s already painful, the cold penetrating his skin and bones, freezing him. Cora and Deaton hold him and, at his nod, drown him. Stiles finds it all very ironic. He said that he felt like he was drowning in his memories and, now, he is literally doing it. His body automatically fights back to survive but the werewolf and the emissary are both stronger than him. It doesn’t take long before the pain fades into nothingness and all he can hear is a voice in the dark.

 

***

 

Stiles is in a bedroom, waking up in a round and large bed. The sheets are tainted but everything is dry already. There is no one but him here. He gets up slowly, feeling sore from the previous night, and goes to take a shower. _What do you see?_ Stiles looks around in the bathroom but sees nothing out of the ordinary. The products are all those he sees every day, Peter’s stuff. He wants to take a bath and let himself fall asleep in it but he knows it’s not a good idea. _Why?_ When he does, Peter usually joins him. So he takes a short hot shower and goes back in the room to find clothes to wear. _Is it your room?_ Stiles frowns, putting on his clothes. No, it’s not his room. He shares a room with Scott. But, when he has long nights, he stays in Peter’s because moving requires too much energy. Which is most of the time since Peter fucks him almost every nights. _Where is your room?_ Another hard question. He can’t remember where he is supposed to go from here. _Is there a door?_ Stiles can’t believe he didn’t see the door before. He opens it and finds himself into a long and dark corridor bordered by doors similar to the one he just passed. He knows where to go, though. He does this every day. So he walks onward until the third door before the last. He tries to open it, turns the doorknob but the door won’t open. _You have a key in your pocket, you always do._ He has a key in his pocket, he always does.

 

Stiles finds the small key in his back pocket and finally opens the door. There are two beds in the room, one messy and one organized. He snorts because Scott forgot again to clean before leaving. Stiles’ eyes land on a picture near his bed. But the photography is blank. Weird. _Where is Scott?_ That’s weirder. At this hour, Scott should be here. Stiles’s heartbeat speeds up as he looks around. Something’s wrong. Peter wasn’t here and now Scott isn’t either. It must have something to do with Allison… _What’s happening with Allison?_ He can’t remember. But he should! She’s his friend but he just can’t remember anything about her. Not even how she looks like. _Look for her_. That’s right. Scott and she must be together somewhere, maybe in her room. Stiles takes a last look around, his eyes finding that empty picture again and leaves. He’s back in the corridor but needs to take the stairs this time; the girls’ rooms are downstairs.

 

 _Be careful, you’re going deeper._ Stiles nods even though he’s alone. He can hear the other boys in their rooms either talking, sleeping or playing video games when he passes in front of the doors. Then he finally reaches the stairs. He doesn’t know why he feels nervous. Maybe they’re just making out and Stiles is going to be scarred for life when he opens the door. That’s all. The girls’ corridor is quiet and Stiles walks towards Allison’s door. The closer he gets, the more he can hear voices. _Do you recognize them?_ Stiles frowns and focuses. He can hear Scott but can’t discern the other two. One has to be Allison’s, it’s a girl’s voice. He gets closer, hand on the doorknob, when he hears Peter’s voice behind the door. _What is he saying?_ He doesn’t know. He can’t hear it, even from here. But he knows that tone. He’s threatening one of them. Stiles jumps when he hears the scream, piercing and excruciating. _Who screamed?_ Allison. It’s Allison! Stiles turns the doorknob but it doesn’t even move. He tries to break the door but it stays still and hard against his shoulder.

 

“Allison!” he yells back. “Scott!”

 

He can’t hear Scott, not anymore. It’s bad, something terrible is happening and he can’t do anything. He shouts Allison’s name again. Allison who is still screaming, still in pain, still needing his help. The door open suddenly and Peter’s bloody hand is on his throat.

 

“Your turn, boy.” He snarls.

 

***

 

Stiles reaches for air, body sore and frozen. He’s shivering and can’t remember where he is. Not again, he thinks, more annoyed than worried. He has water in his eyes but someone puts a towel on his face, gently wiping it.

 

“W—where?” he starts asking, teeth chattering. “Where I am?”

“Deaton’s office. You were in the bath all day.” A girl’s voice says.

 

The bath. Yes, he remembers now. Derek dropped them here, Cora and him, to see if his friend could help him with… a lot of things, apparently.

 

“Do you remember? What happened when you were under?” Deaton asks while Cora helps him getting out and offers him another towel.

“I think so yeah? I was at Peter’s and I went to look for… Scott? He wasn’t in our room so I tried Allison’s. Is that really what happened? It all seemed so…”

 

Stiles can’t believe he didn’t notice it at the time. How everything he saw was blurred and unclear, as if the visions were rigged or he was looking through a dirty window. Deaton gives him that mysterious look while whispering “Interesting” again and leaves to go back with an old book.

 

“The door. Allison’s door. You told us you tried to open it, why couldn’t you?”

“It was weird. The door just didn’t move, even when I tried to turn the doorknob, it stayed still. Why?”

“You were blocked.” Deaton says, understanding something both Cora and him don’t. “I mean… mentally. You have a blocking in your mind preventing you from remembering.”

“Because of the accident?” he asks while Cora says: “Maybe other things will be able to trigger it like last time.”

 

Deaton shakes his head and opens his book to show them a page in a language they don’t know.

 

“This is a spell, an ancient one. I let you guess what it does.”

 

Stiles swallows, looking down at the strange picture of a man dressed like a mage _splitting up_ the brain of someone lying in front of him, a huge black door behind them.

 

“It… splits the memories, or something.” Stiles tries, uncertain.

“Yes. More precisely, it puts some memories under a barrier and only allows the subject to reach those that aren’t behind it. Only the one who put the spell has the key to unlock… the door to the memories.”

“Wait, are you telling me that someone put a spell on me so I couldn’t remember anything about my life? I couldn’t open the door because my memories were behind it?”

“That’s exactly what I’m saying, Stiles. And in your mind, Peter was the one preventing you from knowing more.”


	4. Unleash

Peter. Peter again. It’s like ever since he started to remember him again, the werewolf is back to haunt him. Stiles finishes drying himself while Cora goes outside to call someone. He watches her go and can’t help thinking about Derek. Who is currently with Peter. Great.

 

“Worried about something?” Deaton asks, handing him a hot chocolate.

“Thanks.” Stiles says, appreciating the drink slowly warming his body. “I don’t think “worried” even begins to cover it. Peter probably killed my best friend, and I can’t even remember said friend because there is a high possibility that Peter buried something terrible in my memory but I can’t run away from this, can I? I can’t just keep asking Derek to protect me, even though he’s doing it himself anyway. I need to find a way to protect myself and repay him for saving my life. But I can’t do any of this if I don’t even know why Peter did this. I’m not worried, I’m freaking out.”

“If he did it. Maybe the spell was cast on you to protect you from Peter. Maybe you know something he can’t know.”

“Awesome. So now we’re not even sure Peter’s behind it? It might so random emissary?”

“Peter is still probably the reason. Derek told me you were alone on the road.”

“Yeah, I know where this is going. I thought about it too, that I tried to escape. Wasn’t much of a success, right? And I find it very ironic that I ran right into his nephew’s arms.”

“Or maybe it’s just fate showing you that you have to face Peter.”

“It would have been great if fate left me alone.”

“Are you sure? Didn’t you gain anything by starting over?”

 

Stiles is tempted to say Derek but stops himself. He honestly doesn’t know where their relationship is going. If it can be called like that. Stiles wants something quiet and safe, he wants it more than anything, especially now. He misses the days where it was just the two of them, alone in his room, sometimes arguing or ignoring each other, other times just talking in a slightly flirtatious way, he can admit it now. He wishes that he could go back to this and stay there forever, without the almost-sex, without the claim. Just two persons getting to know and appreciate each other slowly.

 

He doesn’t regret it, though. Getting close to Derek was better than his other experiences with Weres in the Hale house, may it be Talia’s or Peter’s. And he needed it, the claim, or else he would have been stuck in this life. But he still hoped, before all this, that it would just happen without it being forced. So maybe what he regrets is putting Derek in this position with nothing more than attraction between them. Then, Derek could have refused and leave him, he could have pretended to believe his own arguments about humans belonging to a specific place, having a role to keep... He could have done all that, but he chose to keep protecting Stiles instead.

 

“I gained both an ally and a friend.” Stiles finally says after a while. “Maybe more than just one.” He adds, thinking of Erica, Lydia and Danny. Maybe even Cora.

 

Deaton offers him a smile that Stiles tries to return shyly.

 

“Now. About your possible hyperactivity, I’d suggest to ask Jennifer. I think she might have felt it the first time she saw you but if no one else noticed it, there’s a chance that it was only because of the shock of the accident. And it’s hard to tell now because you’re finding yourself in a stressful situation.”

“But it’s not like… too bad right? I mean, if I do have it.”

“I suggest to either wait for your memories to come back and we’ll know for sure, but if your memories aren’t back before all this ends, we can probably figure it out together under… quieter circumstances. I can give you something but you’ll have to wait. Meds are hard to come by, since Weres and Emissaries don’t really need them.”

“Decidedly, being human comes with an awful lot of privileges around here.” Stiles deadpans.

 

Cora barges in when Deaton is about to say something, looking worried. Stiles straightens up immediately.

 

“What’s going on?”

“It’s Derek. I can’t reach him. No one can.”

“You think he’s still at Peter’s?” Stiles asks with a strained voice.

“I hope not. But I’m going there, my girlfriend’s is going to check my place meanwhile.”

“Okay, I’m going with you.”

“No, you don’t. You’re weak, there’s nothing you can do.”

“I am fucking going, Cora. I am not staying here waiting. I’m going with or without you, but last time I checked, I’m your responsibility.”

“Fine! Let’s go.” She exclaims, already leaving.

 

Stiles says a quick thanks to Deaton before running after her. He looks up when he’s outside, almost expecting rain to fit his current mood. But no, the sky is only slowly getting darker, night taking its turn. Swearing, Stiles catches up with Cora. He thinks about asking her how far it is but he doesn’t really want to know. If she says it’s far, he’s just going to worry more.

 

“Shouldn’t we be running?”

 

Cora rolls her eyes and shows him what looks like a metro station.

 

“We just have one stop with the metro; it’ll go faster than _running_.”

 

Stiles considers sticking out his tongue. Instead, he follows her in silence until they get onboard. Earlier, he would have probably looked around him in awe but now, he can’t stop biting his thumb nail, channeling his fear by pacing. Or annoying Derek’s sister. With a sigh, Cora puts her hand on his arm, absorbing his anxiety.

 

“How do you do that?”

“Werewolf mojo? How else?”

“Thanks I guess.”

“That was for me. It was either that or punching you.”

“Wow, thanks, really.”

“Look, Stiles.” She whispers. “I don’t hate you. But I hope you realize my brother wouldn’t be in danger without you in his life, right now.”

“Trust me, I know. That’s why I’m coming with you to help you. I owe him.”

 

Cora looks at him, searching the truth in his eyes and heartbeats. She seems to find what she’s looking for because she nods and lets go of his arm.

 

“Good.”

 

Stiles thought he would recognize the neighborhood when they go back in the streets but nothing seems familiar. Maybe because he was never out when he was working for Peter… He has no other choice but to follow Cora to Peter’s brothel with blind faith. She leads him in a blind alley, dark with many broken wooden boxes on the ground, as if fights were happening regularly around here. She shows him the black door at the end of it, marked by a white triskele he remembers seeing in the Hale house as well.

 

Everything is quiet but Stiles feels watched as he stares at the brick building with tinted windows.  Cora and Stiles exchange a look before taking one step forward. Stiles hasn’t even put his foot on the ground that a loud growl resonates in the dead end street. He knows it even though he never heard it before.

 

“Deucalion.”

 

Cora frowns and squares off, her claws slowly starting to grow from her nails, getting sharper.

 

“Behind.” She orders.

 

Stiles can hear the strain in her voice. Of course. Deucalion is an Alpha, she can’t stand a chance against him. But she’s not the giving up kind.

 

“Be careful.” He pleads, getting behind her, wishing he took a weapon with him.

 

They don’t even hear him when he’s suddenly on them, skin black and eyes glowing red. Stiles heard tales about Deucalion, saying he was a demon, that his soul was so dark and tainted, his skin started to decay to reflect his inner chaos. He believed those tales because he knew him but he never thought he would look like an actual demon. He takes a step back that makes the werewolf smirks but his attention goes to Cora who attacks him right away. Deucalion makes dodging look like child’s play, smile getting bigger every time Cora misses. Stiles takes another step back, looking behind him only to realize that they are too far from the exit to just go for it. He turns around and sees Deucalion surging forward before Cora does and he decides to take part in the fight, pulling her towards him by her t-shirt just in time. She doesn’t look back but digs her claws in Deucalion’s chest, leaving a huge bleeding trail behind. Deucalion looks surprised and Stiles takes advantage of the Alpha’s reaction to run away with Cora, holding her hand firmly.

 

“Stiles!” she almost growls. “We need to go back there!”

“You’re welcome! And don’t worry, he’s going to follow us soon enough!”

 

Stiles lets go of Cora’s hand to grab one of the pieces of wood he noticed earlier, hoping it will be enough to defend himself. They promptly hide behind a trashcan, their breathing fast.

 

“Think you can ask a friend of yours to join us here?” he whispers, eyeing the end of the street. “I can hold him back while you call someone.”

“We should go back to fight and when I say we, I mean me.”

“I am not being brave or whatever, Cora. I don’t fucking know anyone in this town! Or in my whole life! You’re the only one who can ask for help between us both.”

 

They stop talking when they hear a loud noise behind, like metal being crushed, indicating that Deucalion is fully healed, definitely angry and coming towards them.

 

“Cora, you need to go now! You can’t defeat him alone and you know it! He won’t kill me! I’m sure you know what he wants from me!”

 

Cora swears and runs forward without a warning. Stiles gapes and stands up to face Deucalion. It has to be enough. Enough for Cora to leave the street and call for help in a crowded place where the Alpha can’t reach her. He grips his “weapon” with his two hands, seeing Deucalion getting closer and closer. He knows the impact is only a matter of seconds.

 

Expecting it doesn’t make things easier. It still hurts when Deucalion collides with him, hands almost breaking the piece of wood he’s holding to protect himself. He loses his breath for a short time before balancing himself, staring right back into Deucalion’s bloody eyes. He can’t help but snorts at his displeased expression.

 

“Now, now” he says between his teeth, focusing on the sound of Cora’s steps behind him fading away. “I thought you liked it when I fight back.”

“Only on my own terms, dear.” Deucalion retorts, his grip tightening on the wood. “Now move, I don’t want to hurt you like that.”

“I’m afraid you’ll have to, _dear_.”

 

It’s enough. Enough for Cora to get help because he can’t hear her steps anymore. But it’s also enough to make Deucalion really angry and throw him hard against the wall. Stiles’ vision becomes full of white and black dots, his breath stuck in his throat as he tries to get up and reorient himself. Then he feels Deucalion’s fist almost burying inside his stomach, making him cough blood.

 

“What are you hoping for, Stiles?” Deucalion whispers, pulling his hair to raise his head. “That your friend is going to come back in time to save you?”

“No, not me.” Stiles says, almost tempted to spit on him but has seen enough movies lately to know it would be a terrible idea.

 

His answer makes the werewolf laugh, showing his sharp teeth. Not teeth: fangs.

 

“I almost forgot about your lover. We heard he claimed you. Do you know what we must do now if we want to be able to play with you again?”

“I didn’t realize you played by the rules.”

“We’re going to kill him. We’ve already started. If you could, you’d hear him scream right now.”

“Don’t you dare hurt Derek!” Stiles yells, coughing again with blood dripping on his chin. “If you do anything to him…”

“You’re human. You can only watch, Stiles. Would you like that, watching us kill him?”

 

Stiles averts his eyes, not able to stand Deucalion’s words anymore. He just hopes Cora will come back soon with help, that Derek too can stay strong a while longer. But Deucalion doesn’t like to be ignored, he knows it. That’s why he’s not surprised when the werewolf comes closer, lips against his bare throat. Stiles shivers at the feeling of his fangs on his skin.

 

“We could do worse.” He continues, licking Stiles’ blood. “We could fuck you right in front of him. Hard and fast, the way you like it. And he will die, watching you being used, knowing he failed to protect you.”

 

The words only are enough to make him throw up; he can feel his disgust threatening to overflow him, but he keeps it down, focusing on his breathing. He also feels anger bubbling up. Because he will never allow Deucalion or anyone else to use him again. His body is his only and he’d rather die than go through all this a third time.

 

“I don’t.” he finally says when his disgust is buried deep inside him. “I don’t like it and I never did. You and your kind are repulsive. A bunch a perverted animals jerking off on people’s pain, all you deserve is to die!”

 

Stiles almost screams the last words, watching Deucalion’s already monstrous face gradually twist into a grim mask of fury. His claws leave a thin trail of blood on his throat but his lips turns up into a crazy smile.

 

“You think I’m going to hurt you physically, Stiles. Oh, no, I want to see you cry, I want to destroy you and for that I’m going to kill Derek right now and bring you his bloody corpse!”

 

Stiles is stunned by the violence of the growl and only realizes that Deucalion isn’t pinning him anymore when he’s already at the door.

 

“Stop!” he yells, raising his hand in the empty space between them, with the foolish hope that he can hold him back.

 

Then it’s like thunder.

 

A bright and powerful thunder flowing right through him and enlightening the whole sky and street, as if a godly wrath just struck the earth. He can feel it, feel it burning him for a short second and then, nothing. The light leaves him to hit Deucalion abruptly in the back. Stiles falls back on the ground, drained and watches as Deucalion falls at the same time.

 

What happened? What the hell just happened?

 

Stiles looks up towards the door and sees that it’s open. With Derek in front of it, wounded and bleeding way too much to be still standing. He should be sitting or at least coming towards him and, yet, he’s watching him with a disbelieving expression.

 

“Oh fuck.” Stiles mutters before standing up and running to Derek.

 

He doesn’t expect him to take a step back from him and it surprises him, but not as much as it hurts him.

 

“Oh my God, Derek, you need to lie down, you need to get out of here and I just… We need to go, okay, let me help you.”

“Don’t touch me.” Derek says, sounding exhausted when Stiles reaches out to hold him, as if Stiles could burn him.

 

Stiles feels like he’s going to cry and shakes his head.

 

“He was going to kill you, Derek! I couldn’t let him do that, I can’t lose you, especially not because of me! I had to stop him somehow!”

“Somehow?!” Derek shouts, incredulous before letting himself go against the door with a pained expression.

 

Stiles thinks he hears voices coming from the dark corridor and takes Derek hands in his, trying to ignore his body tensing at his touch.

 

“Derek, please. We need to go. You trust me, right? I’m yours.” Stiles says, his mind reeling. “I’m yours. I have to protect you too.”

 

Stiles starts when a girl suddenly appears next to them. She has a dark skin like Deaton’s and huge claws’ scars on her face and throat. Stiles relaxes thanks to it, knowing that if she was a Were, she would have healed.

 

“You helped him?”

“Yes, I’ve been asked to by your friends, I guess. Your name Stiles’ right? I’m Braeden.”

 

Stiles nods and shakes her hand, the other one still firmly holding Derek’s. The girl looks around and sees Deucalion’s body lying on the ground. She whistles, impressed.

 

“You did that? What are you, dude?”

 

Stiles can feel Derek tightening his grip and winces.

 

“What happened?” he inquires, feeling Derek’s ragged breath against his neck.

“He had a fight with Peter. We created a diversion to help him escape but it won’t last. If you’re not waiting for anyone else, you should go now.”

“We?”

“Isaac, Scott and me. Will you be okay?”

 

Stiles nods, not surprised to hear Scott’s name, and watches Braeden go back, closing the door behind her.

 

“Can you walk, big guy?” Stiles asks to Derek in a whisper. “Cora should be coming back but it’s better to meet her halfway, yeah?”

 

Derek nods but avoids his eyes. Stiles tells himself that it’s okay, it won’t last, it’s just the shock. He should be shocked too but all he can think off is Derek’s blood sticking to their clothes and that he has to keep him alive. So he puts Derek’s arm around his shoulder and starts walking. Thinking must stop. It’s a terrible thing to do right now. He tries to focus on Derek’s breathing and on his feet. Not on the fact that he throw _lightning_ at Deucalion. And that Derek saw it. And now he hates him. Definitely no more thinking.

 

As he hoped, Cora does meet them halfway. She runs faster when she sees her brother hurt and helps them. They walk in silence until they reach the other street where Derek’s Camaro is now parked.

 

“We found it on the way.” Jennifer says, opening the door and Stiles raises an eyebrow, surprised to see that she is the one Cora called.

“I didn’t know you knew each other.” He says while helping Derek to sit on the back seat.

“Please” Cora snorts, getting on the front, leaving Stiles no other choice but to sit next to Derek – oh, joy. “Who do you think served as an alibi, back then? Whatever, it doesn’t matter right now. What happened with Deucalion?”

“Stiles is an emissary.” Derek says, still looking away, and it causes a long silence in the car, barely hidden when Jennifer starts the engine. “He’s a fucking emissary.”

 

Stiles can’t get over the sound of disappointment in Derek’s voice. He can tell by the fact that the two girls don’t say anything that they heard it too. But he doesn’t know what to do, doesn’t know what to say. At the same time, he feels that, if he doesn’t try to defend himself, their relationship will stop there and it’s so unfair.

 

“I’m right, here, Derek. If you have something to tell me, tell me now.”

“I don’t have anything to tell you, Stiles. This isn’t the kind of thing you keep to yourself, especially from the guy who took care of you for weeks.”

“I didn’t know! I’m as surprised as you are, I swear!”

“Surprised? Not the word I would use. Betrayed, maybe.”

“It’s not like I _lied_ to you, Derek! I’m telling you I didn’t know!”

“And I’m supposed to believe you? I _claimed_ you, Stiles, to _protect_ you. And I almost died tonight because of that. Because of _nothing_ considering that you can damn well protect yourself anyway. What did you want from me? To fight your battles?”

“Stop blaming me for things I can’t control, okay? I’m sorry you got almost murdered but I got almost murdered too so stop fucking whining!”

“Alright, boys, calm down!” Jennifer says hurriedly. “I suggest you stop your domestic quarrel now. Derek, you should be resting until you’re healed and Stiles, try to understand what happened exactly in that alley with Deucalion.”

 

Derek snorts but rests his head against the window, not saying anything anymore. With a sigh, Stiles sinks back on his seat. Jennifer’s right, he should be thinking about what happened. But he just doesn’t get it. None of this makes sense. He was normal less than an hour ago. And even now, he doesn’t feel different. It’s like that… thing just happened for a short moment. Maybe he is normal again. At least he hopes he is. He looks at Derek out of the corner of his eye and decides to come closer. Derek feels him but doesn’t show any reaction apart from his body tensing up. Alright. He can be annoying when necessary.

 

“I don’t feel different.” He whispers.

“But you are.” Derek answers after a while, gritting his teeth.

“I was worried for you. I just wanted to save you.” Stiles insists. “I should have a congratulatory kiss, not a betrayed scowl.”

 

Derek sighs and finally looks at him, wary. Stiles offers him his most reassuring smile and Derek raises an eyebrow. It takes him a lot of nudging and puppy eyes for Derek to finally lean in to kiss him lightly on his forehead.

 

“Happy?”

“I could be happier, if you know what I mean.”

“Please don’t make out in the car.” Cora begs.

“It’s my car.” Derek reminds her, going back to staring out of the window.

 

Jennifer parks the car in front of Deaton’s and Stiles and Cora help Derek out again. He’s healing but slowly. Jennifer explains quickly that it’s because it’s a wound made by an Alpha and Stiles realize then how lucky he is that Deucalion didn’t hurt him _that_ much. Deaton is already waiting for them, his observation table clean and ready for Derek. Derek lies down on it and the two emissaries start looking at his grimy wounds. Stiles can’t help but to look away and finds Cora doing the same thing. She gestures for him to follow her outside and he’s more than happy to oblige. Once there, she pats him awkwardly on the shoulder.

 

“Thanks, for saving him.”

“Sure, anytime. Even though he hates me now.”

“He kissed you.”

“Because I begged for it, not really because he wanted to.”

“Stop whining. My brother doesn’t kiss people if he doesn’t like them.”

“He forbade me to touch him! Okay, it was unexpected but it’s not my fault, I didn’t know, I swear!”

“He needs to think about it, you know. We have a past, with emissaries in our family and we all reacted differently. My mother and my sister turned to slavery; my brother avoids the world in fear of being betrayed, even though it’s not working, and Peter… Peter just kills them.”

“What about you?”

“I try to be a good person.” Cora says, tone almost hesitant as if she is surprised by her own words. “I try to be better than those who murdered my family, to not blindly consider the others as the enemy. Don’t get me wrong, if someone hurts those I care about, I’m going to hunt them down.”

“Don’t worry, I kinda understood that already.”

“Yeah, I might not be that good at that whole don’t kill your neighbor thing. But, then, don’t hurt my brother and you’ll be fine.”

“But what do I do, if he really thinks I betrayed him? I just… let him go?”

“Maybe. Or you can try harder if you really want him in your life. It takes a long time to fully trust somebody, sometimes years. I’m sure you especially understand that. Can you really trust anyone, with your amnesia? Aren’t you afraid that people could take advantage of you?”

 

Stiles shrugs, sitting on the Camaro. He sighs when Cora crosses her arms, waiting.

 

“Okay, maybe I do. I trust Derek, though.”

“Why?”

“I can’t explain it. It’s just that… I was hurt and he took care of me, he was patient with me, he was… exactly what I needed and when we were apart… I just knew that I couldn’t trust anyone the way I trust him, because I know how much he can give without asking anything in return. I know I can count on him. But it’s just all so selfish, Cora. I want to give him something in return. Something as valuable as the safety he gave me and is still giving me.”

“Just be here for him. Be a friend he can rely on. Be more if you feel like it but… It’s not that complicated.”

 

Stiles narrows his eyes at her and she rolls her eyes, unimpressed.

 

“Do what you want, Stiles. But remember I warned your balls about hurting him.” She says before going further to call someone, probably her girlfriend.

 

Stiles instinctively puts his hand on his crotch, as if to protect it from an invisible punch. He wishes that it could be that simple for him, though. But he doesn’t know if he can be a good friend. The glimpses from his past make him doubt that. One is probably dead, the other is still at Peter’s and probably suffering because of him… Worse, he helped Derek but Stiles didn’t even think about passing a note to Derek, at least to let Scott knows he’s okay and that he remembers some few things. He could have told that black girl to say hi. But he didn’t. He just didn’t because all he can think about is _Derek_.

 

He honestly feels like a mom who can’t let go of her child, always worrying about Derek’s well-being. With reason, considering his current terrible wounded state. But he should have tried to reach Scott, it doesn’t matter if he can’t remember much about him, he _knows_ Scott is his best friend. He just knows it; it’s his certainty ever since he first heard his name. Jennifer puts her hand on his shoulder, making him jump. She smiles, amused.

 

“I called you but you were lost in your thoughts. Derek’s better now, you can go see him, he’s not bleeding everywhere anymore.”

“Okay, thanks.”

“I’ll see you again tomorrow to check his injuries and… you. So do your best to remember what happened, so I can help you, alright?”

“Deaton can’t help me?”

“Oh, he could. But he needs to rest, I have a bad feeling about tomorrow. I think he’s going to have to take care of many people.”

“Because of Peter?”

 

Jennifer sighs but it’s as good as an answer. Of course. Peter isn’t going to take a defeat without a bloody retaliation afterwards.

 

“There’s nothing we can do about it for now. Just go.”

“I guess you’re right. Thanks again.”

 

Stiles watches the door for some few more minutes before deciding to go in while Jennifer leaves to warn Cora. Deaton excuses himself once he arrives to finish his paperwork in his office, and Stiles is left alone with Derek, not knowing where to start. They stay in silence until Derek straightens up to face him, eyes reading him. Stiles is fidgeting, nervous, but waits for Derek to make the first move.

 

“Come here.” He finally says, patting the empty spot next to him on the operation table.

 

Stiles almost trips in his hurry to sit next to him. Derek rolls his eyes but doesn’t comment on his lack of elegance.

 

“Did you want me to come closer so you could strangle me?”

“Don’t ruin the surprise.”

 

Stiles smiles and looks down on their hands, so close but not touching.

 

“I think… I think that you like me a bit too much, Stiles.”

 

He looks up, surprised by Derek’s subject. He expected more something along the lines of “I don’t think I can trust you”. It still sounds like rejection, though. Stiles swallows difficultly.

 

“Why do you think that?”

“The way you trust me, the way you need me… You rely on me too much. We barely know each other.”

“I—But what do you want me to do then? Stop liking you? Just like that?”

“Why not?”

“Is it because ever since we found out I might be an emissary, you think you can’t trust me anymore? Well you can, Derek, it doesn’t change who I am or what I want. Hopefully, if I learn how to control this, maybe I’ll become less of a burden for you. If it wasn’t just a one-time thing.”

“You’re not a burden, Stiles. And you’re not weak, I thought I told you that already.”

“It doesn’t mean I believe it. Maybe now I’ll be able to not need you too much but, please, try to consider that you are the only stable thing in my life right now. I can’t even trust myself, tonight proved it. I rely on you because you’re the only person I can fully rely on, honestly…”

“Why me? And don’t give me your “because you took care of me” speech. Be honest.”

“But it’s true. You don’t realize how scary all this is for me, okay? I’m always afraid that the next person I’m going to meet already knows me and will play me. Or worse, try to kill me. Like for Deucalion, you said he’s Peter’s friend so what if he knew me already before the house and took advantage of my situation? And I’m scared of myself, of who I was because I saw… I saw some few things about Peter’s house and… it was awful. I’m afraid that when my memories finally come back, it’ll destroy me, that I’ll be like an empty and broken shell. That’s why I need it, the stability, and that’s… you, that’s really what you are to me. Because you were the first thing I saw, you were the one who helped me understanding the world, the one who healed me and always made sure that I was okay… I constructed the current me along with a pretense of humanity thanks to you. So of course, I need you.”

 

Derek buries his head in his hands, sighing before looking at him again.

 

“Alright. Let’s start over, then.”

“Wait, what…”

“Just… Let me finish. This, all this, all those things you said, it’s a lot for me. I really feel like you have too high expectations of me and I know I can’t live up to them. But I can’t abandon you either, and I won’t. I think we need to start over our relationship, putting aside… what went wrong.”

“You mean, claiming me.”

“Don’t look at me like that, Stiles, you know I’m right. The claim… Everything that happened that night was wrong. Or, well, it was handled badly. It shouldn’t have been that violent but you couldn’t know that.”

“I know but we can’t take it back. And it’s not like it was a terrible experience, especially after the kind of… clients I had there, you know. It wasn’t Peter’s but it wasn’t heaven either. Besides, you know I enjoyed having almost-sex with you.”

“We can admit that it fucked up our relationship.”

“Did it?” Stiles sighs. “I think it was rushed and we didn’t have the time to make things right. But, fine, what do you suggest?”

“Friendship. We were starting a friendship, before that night. I think we should go back to that and see where it leads us from here.”

“Oh, you mean, trying to get to know each other even though I don’t know myself? Yeah it might just work.”

“Stiles, stop being an asshole, I’m serious.”

 

Stiles looks at him with an amused smile.

 

“Deal. But how about…”

“The emissary thing? It’s safe to say I overreacted.”

“Oh, you think?”

“Shut up, Stiles, I’m trying to apologize. But it felt like a betrayal at the moment. I wondered if you knew all along and hid it in fear of rejection or for other reasons, worse reasons. It happened to me already in the past.”

“Well,” Stiles starts, putting Derek’s hand over his heart. “Let’s play spot the lie, then. I swear that I didn’t know, I really thought I was a mere human before tonight. And I still can’t grasp it, it seems so unreal.”

“I believe you. But I will need time.”

 

Stiles sighs, relieved. Derek stands up suddenly and puts on his bloody t-shirt, confusing him.

 

“Come on. Cora already gave us enough privacy, I don’t think she has any more patience left.”

“Oh right, I forgot! But wait what about… what about… claiming me?”

“I already did and I’m not taking it back. Unless you want me to.”

“No. No, it’s perfect like that.”

 

Derek nods, opening the door for him.

 

“Then we’re good for now.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thanks for all your kudos and comments and if you think of tags I should add, feel free to tell me, by the way!


	5. Turnaround

Stiles is sitting in front of the large windows in Cora’s living room, staring at the sight of Los Angeles in front of him. It is beautiful but it is hard to appreciate it right now, when he knows Peter is probably spilling the blood of innocents on the walls of this city. At first, he thought Cora and Derek were crazy to just come home and not somewhere safe. He gets it now, that Peter wouldn’t just come after them. No, he wants to make others suffer, to make them responsible for their deaths. Well, so far it’s working.

 

“Still can’t sleep?” Cora yawns behind him before sitting next to him.

 

When they arrived, Stiles told them that he would probably stay awake so they should take the bed. Derek needed to rest correctly anyway, without him clutching at his body in his sleep. Cora didn’t go see her girlfriend tonight but Stiles guessed it was to keep an eye on her brother.

 

“Will she be okay? Your girlfriend, I mean.”

“Peter won’t go after someone he doesn’t even know, don’t worry. It’s more your friend Scott you should worry about.”

“Trust me, I do.”

 

Cora yawns again and Stiles nudges her lightly.

 

“I can stay alone, you know. Go back to bed.”

“Yeah, yeah, I will. But I worry too, about sunrise and what it will bring. You know, Peter is impulsive, it’s kind of a family trait, but he’s also a planner. His revenge always falls when you expect it less.”

“So you don’t think he’s going to do something soon?”

“Oh, I’m sure of it. But I don’t think it will be just about you, more about your kind.”

“Humans?”

“No, he has nothing against humans. I mean, he thinks they are weak and all, but they don’t bother him. What he hates are emissaries. Coincidentally, you happen to be one.”

“Is that your way of telling me I shouldn’t feel guilty?”

“We can’t feel guilty when someone uses us as an excuse to hurt people. The only one guilty here is Peter. Well, Peter and his friends. Unfortunately, as you can guess, he has many of them.”

“Shouldn’t you be safe? I mean, you are his family.”

“I’m on your side, that makes me the enemy. You see what he did to Derek just for claiming you.”

“What’s with everyone and the fact that Derek claimed me, anyway? I know it happened to others as well, it’s not like it’s such a big deal.”

 

Cora looks at him, raising an eyebrow and giving him a judgmental look almost as strong as her brother’s.

 

“We’re partly animals, which makes us very… territorial. You used to be Peter’s property but now you are Derek’s. Of course he’s going to be mad about it.”

“But your mother and your sister… they were quite angry too…”

“For a different reason. They aren’t bad, you know, they just worry about us. Especially Derek since his love choices are always the worst.”

“We aren’t…”

“Oh, please, Stiles. You guys are getting there, you just don’t know how to do it.”

“Maybe we just want to get it right.”

“By being friends? How about dating?”

“Look, it’s your brother’s idea. And I think he’s right, we should just let things happen without forcing them. I don’t want him to be stuck with me because he claimed me.”

“You really don’t know what the claim is about, right? It’s like engagement for us. Sure, not everyone sees it that way when it comes to interspecies relationships but…”

“Derek wants to marry me?” Stiles exclaims.

“No, dumbass. You’re supposed to be smart, right? How can you not understand something that simple? My brother likes you. And he feels responsible for you.”

 

Stiles sighs and looks back at the closed door behind which Derek is still sleeping. Of course, he understands, he _is_ smart. What he doesn’t understand is why. Why does Derek do all that for someone he barely knows? Why taking risks for him? He shouldn’t be trusting him. Every time Stiles learns something about himself, it’s bad. Peter, being an emissary…

 

“I feel like the main character of a badly written book.”

“Badly written book?” Cora repeats, almost amused.

“Yeah, you know. Like those where the heroine finds out she has powers and she struggles to control them, helped by the man she secretly loves… But you know he loves her back too and at the end, they’re together and happy. It’s bullshit. In real life, you know that it’s not that simple, that discovering your powers isn’t going to be the first step of your bloom, quite the contrary. You can never feel safe again and happiness isn’t at the end of the line.”

“You don’t know that. You can’t give up just because it might not end well.”

“But I’m right! How many of us are going to be alive when this ends? Alive with the ones we love?”

“You worry too much about the future.” Cora states, rolling her eyes. “Now sleep. Jennifer’s going to be here soon.”

 

She throws a cover at him and Stiles reluctantly lies on the couch while she goes back in the room. He lets the lights of the city in front of him lull him into a restless sleep. As if Peter’s name is now more than enough to bring back memories of a past he’d rather forget, his mind wanders in fragments made of violence and fear. He can’t see Scott or Allison’s faces but he feels them, the three of them comforting each other through their ordeals. He knows now how close they were, how they always were honest though without showing just how bad all this was getting to them. They were trying be positive, all the time. That’s why it shocks him when Allison cries. Allison never cries, she’s the strong one. It has to do with her secret. Stiles can still hear it now: “ _He knows now, he knows about me, Stiles._ ” A faint whisper before blood starts spilling.

 

Stiles wakes up with a start, Jennifer’s hand on his shoulder. He gets up, panicked, before remembering that she’s here to check on Derek, not because something bad happened. She gives him a mug full of coffee before standing up.

 

“Derek’s okay. He still has scars but they should be fading soon. Oh, and Cora went to see if Peter’s up to something.”

“So he didn’t do anything last night?” Stiles inquires, voice still groggy from sleeping.

“Nothing that we are aware of. Come on, I need to test your powers, see if you’re really one of us or if you just got lucky.”

 

Stiles nods and stands up, following her in the kitchen.

 

“Is it possible to _just get lucky_?” he asks, slowly drinking his coffee.

“Sure. Some of us are strong enough to influence people around us temporarily. I don’t recall feeling an emissary last night, though, but it’s still possible.”

“Influence? Like passing on your powers?”

“Something like that. You know, both Weres and Emissaries are forces of nature. While Weres channel their animal part, we relate more to nature itself, how the whole ecosystem works together, how elements are linked. That’s what we do, really, create links between things that already exist.”

“You mean that we… enhance nature?”

“I see that you’re a fast learner, good.”

 

Jennifer then takes a little white stick from her pocket.

 

“Do you remember this?”

“Yes, it’s the chalk you used to make…”

“Oghams.” Jennifer finishes for him. “It’s an ancient Celtic alphabet, kind of. We use those letters to make our powers stronger, to help us rely on the nature and not just on ourselves. It allows us not to be drained when we make a ritual.”

“All emissaries can do that?”

“No, only druids, like Deaton or me. Deaton likes to use powders out from the trees directly, but sometimes you have to improvise, hence knowing your oghams and their meaning. Let me give an example.” She says before taking his hand and traces a horizontal line on his hand with four others perpendicular under it. Immediately, his tiredness from sleep leaves him for a feeling of tranquility.

 

“How did you do that?” Stiles asks, looking at his palm in awe.

“It’s Sail. It can be used to ease the pain when you don’t have a willow-tree nearby… I used it on you the night of the accident, among other things.”

“But tracing it isn’t enough, right? You need to actually do something else…”

“I need to focus on it, focus on what I want and on the result I want to achieve.”

 

Stiles bit his lip, thoughtful. She’s telling him to focus on what he wants to do, isn’t she? He sighs and looks at her.

 

“In the alley… It’s like lightning left my body and when it did I just felt… drained.”

“Lightning? That’s unusual. What were you feeling at the time?”

“I don’t know, many things! Anger, fear, despair… I was overwhelmed; I didn’t know what to do.”

“What did you want to do when it happened?”

“Stop him, prevent him from going to Derek.”

“Emotions. That’s what triggered all this. It happens sometimes, when we let emotions control us, negative ones. We can be the most powerful during those times, creating waves of energy or even get a supernatural strength.”

“But there’s a downside, I guess.”

“Of course, I told you. It drains you, but by instinct, you are going to look for a way to get that power back, in the nature. And nature can be people around you, you could accidently kill someone just because you couldn’t control your feelings.”

 

Stiles swallows, looking at his hand where the mark is now fading, the same hand he raised not so long ago to stop Deucalion. He could have hurt so many people and he didn’t even know he was able to do it. What would have happen if Deucalion did not fall? Stiles closes his eyes and breathes slowly, calming himself down. Controlling his emotions. Right.

 

“You implied that not all emissaries are druids, am I right?”

 

Jennifer smiles, putting back the chalk in her pocket.

 

“You understood me perfectly. Your friends Danny and Lydia, for example, are different. Lydia’s known as a banshee, she can predict death or talk with the dead. As for Danny… he hides it. It’s been a real game in the community, to guess who and what he is. Some says he is Kaha’I but I think it’s mostly because of the handsome part. You can try to find out yourself.”

“I’ll try but Danny’s good at hiding things, especially about himself. I bet Lydia figured it out, though. I didn’t know you knew them.”

“We all know one another, unless someone’s powers are still asleep or hidden by their families.”

“And are you all training in kitchens? Is that an emissary thing too?”

“If you want to get closer to Derek and risk hurting him, we can do that.” Jennifer deadpans with a gentle smile.

 

Stiles narrows his eyes at her and crosses his arms. Jennifer just shrugs it off and sits on the counter. Stiles drinks up his coffee and put the mug down.

 

“Okay, what do I do now?”

“Look for it. That power you felt last night, remember where it came from.”

“You make it sound so easy…” Stiles mutters closing his eyes.

 

It’s hard, trying to remember how it happened, how he felt it inside him, like a bright light of hope. He doesn’t know if he can take it out from everything else. He can still feel the despair crushing him, telling him that he made a mistake, that he shouldn’t have provoked Deucalion. Despair because he’s weak, he can protect anyone. He can only watch people fall around him and he _knew_ that feeling so well, a part of him aware despite him that this just keeps happening. He just keeps losing those he cares about, those who chose to help him. That’s probably when he felt it then, that rage to make that endless circle stop running. There was something, something deep inside telling him that he could fight back. He raised his hand to stop Deucalion. And he did. After that warm, too warm light pierced him, flowing right outside him to help him change the balance of his world.

 

But where? Where did it come from? It feels like it was too many things at the same time. His throat tightening, his lungs crushing his air, his guts on fire. Anger. The anger of being powerless burning him to his bones.

 

Stiles opens his eyes, panting. It’s _here_. Waiting for him, lurking in his own darkness. He can’t go there, can he? Jennifer warned him, about emotions. He shakes his head.

 

“I know. I know but _I can’t_. It’s just too much. God, I can’t believe I didn’t notice it before, it’s fucking everywhere.”

“You probably didn’t need it before last night.”

“Right. I think it wouldn’t have been useful against Deucalion the first time I met him.”

“I heard he was your first client. Well, if your powers didn’t show up back then, it means you actually liked it.”

 

Stiles gapes at her, not believing what he just heard.

 

“Excuse me? You think I _liked_ it?” he hisses.

“If you really wanted to defend yourself, you would have.”

“I couldn’t!”

“Oh, please, Stiles. Don’t give me the damsel in distress act. What do you really want? Fight back or beg for protection with your legs spread for the first werewolf you see? You said you found your power? Use it and stop hiding behind that pathetic victim mask.”

 

It happens all at once and Stiles feels ridiculous afterwards. Jennifer was obviously pushing him and he just fell for it. Of course she knew exactly what to say, she’s like him, she most likely feels the same way. Because the words hurt him too much to simply ignore them. Fight back. He knows he can now. So he does. He feels it building up, crawling under his skin to just get out and defend him. It’s burning. It feels like he’s drowning in a hurricane made of fire. It just lasts a second but it feels like the time has stopped, the world slowing down. The calm before the storm. Then it leaves him, just like that, and comes crashing down along Jennifer’s body, cracking the wall and the counter in a long dark and fuming line. Jennifer is just smiling, unabashed.

 

“There you go.”

 

***

 

Derek keeps staring at the fissure on the wall and it has Stiles pacing around him and apologizing until Derek just smacks him on the head and ask him to make some coffee for him. He knows that the werewolf isn’t a morning person – well he isn’t a day person either – so Stiles just flees to make the wanted coffee while Derek goes back in the living room. He can hear the two whispering but isn’t able to make out any words from their conversation. Stiles sighs, trying to figure out how Derek must like his coffee.

 

He still can’t believe it. That he called whatever is inside him to just… unleash it, again. He doesn’t know how he should feel now that they know for sure that he’s an emissary. It’s hard for him right now to feel like he is one, apart from the fact that he has _powers_. He doesn’t feel wise or the sudden need to advise everyone around him about supernatural issues. But maybe that’s not how it works. Whatever.

 

“Do you like it?” Stiles asks after giving Derek his coffee, sitting now next to him. “I can bring you sugar, if you want.”

“It’s perfect. Thank you.” Derek answers and Stiles beams.

“Now I know what Cora was talking about. You guys are disgusting.”

“Why?” they both ask at the same time, frowning.

 

Jennifer rolls her eyes and flips a magazine.

 

“You should just be all over each other instead of being _friends_. Nobody told you could be both? Don’t answer, I know what kind of books you are reading and I start to think they are forbidden for a reason.”

“You mean, apart from the fact that they feature love relationships between Weres and Humans?”

“Not those books again.” Derek grumbles. “Can we talk about something else? Like do you have any memories back?”

 

Stiles shrugs, looking down at his hands.

 

“Kind of, but nothing’s clear. I remember scenes but it’s like watching them through a keyhole… I know a bit more about Allison, though.”

“Allison?” Jennifer repeats, perking up from her magazine. “Who is she?”

“I don’t really know. She’s my friend but I don’t know what happened to her at Peter’s. I’m starting to think that she was an emissary and hid it. She kept saying that Peter knew something about her and I had another memory where I said the same thing while talking about Allison…”

“She’s probably dead then.” Jennifer states, going back to her magazine and Stiles can feel Derek’s hand in his to calm him down before he even realized he was starting to get upset.

 

Cora comes back home ten minutes later looking tense. Stiles knows she wouldn’t be that calm if something bad really happened though so he tries not to worry. She immediately goes to Derek and shows him the bedroom.

 

“I need to talk to you. In private.”

 

Derek nods and stands up, ruffling Stiles’ hair before going with her in the bedroom, closing the door behind them. Stiles turns to Jennifer while patting his hair.

 

“You think something happened?”

“Something might.” She answers, looking at her phone on the table. “But if anything happened already, I would have known.”

“Oh, so you too have friends lurking around.”

“You could say that.”

 

Cora and Derek leave the room when Stiles is going to ask for precisions so he stands up instead, going to meet them.

 

“Okay, what’s going on?”

“We don’t know anything for sure so we’re going to check.”

“Where are we going?”

“Home. And it will be only Cora and me, you’re staying here.”

“You are leaving me behind?” Stiles asks in disbelief. “This is so not happening, last time we did that, you were almost killed!”

“Stiles, calm down. You will stay here with Jennifer. You just started your training with her so you can keep doing that. It’s different this time, none of us are going to be alone. My family will be with me and I’m sure Jennifer can take you somewhere safe.”

“Of course I can.” Jennifer says with a smug smile. “He needs to meet others of his kind anyway.”

“See? Everything’s fine.”

“Oh my God, nothing’s fine! If you die, you can bet your furry ass that I will bring you back to kill you myself!”

“Aw, adorable.” Cora rolls her eyes. “Are we done now? Can we go or are you two always going to be so dramatic when you go on different ways for like one hour?”

“Shut up.” Derek sighs, before turning back to Stiles. “Stop worrying, yeah?”

“Not happening but I can pretend.”

“Good. I’ll call Jennifer when we’re coming back.”

 

Stiles crosses his arm but nods, watching them go. Jennifer stands up to join him at the door.

 

“There’s something I didn’t tell you but I couldn’t say it in front of Derek…”

“Oh, God, what now?”

“Your powers… I can’t feel them. Even when you use them.”

“What does that mean?”

“It means the block in your mind probably blocks your powers too. As if it tried to hide you from us.”

 

Stiles frowns and takes his jacket, following Jennifer outside the apartment.

 

“That doesn’t make sense.”

“It does. Whoever did this to you didn’t want you to be found. And it’s working, no one can tell what you are unless they actually see you do something.”

“As if my situation couldn’t get more complicated…”

“Oh, I’m sure it still could.”

 

Stiles scowls but doesn’t retort anything. Jennifer guides him to her car and they drive in silence. He tries not to worry, he really does. But he knows that something is happening, he can feel it. The simple fact that neither Derek nor Cora said exactly why they needed to go home is a dead giveaway of “shit is about to go down”. He wonders if Talia called them. Maybe she found out something about Peter and wants to stop him. It sounds like the kind of thing she would do. Stiles might only know her bad side but he doesn’t think Derek would stay around her if she was that bad. Overprotective of her kids, most likely. Sure, Stiles isn’t going to forgive her because of that, but he can probably understand her motives. Just like he can understand Peter’s.

 

Stiles turns to Jennifer when he hears her swear.

 

“What’s going on?”

“Him.” She answers, showing him a boy around his age just in front of what must be Jennifer’s parking lot.

“Who is he?”

“Nobody.” Jennifer snorts, unfastening her seatbelt. “Stay here and don’t scream if there’s blood”

“What?!” Stiles does not squeal.

 

But before Jennifer can leave the car and the boy can move forward, he just falls head first on the ground.

 

“Oh my God, is he dead?”

 

Jennifer squints and sighs, getting out of the car. Stiles stumbles to follow her, hurrying to see why the boy fell. He’s surprised to see a small dart on the back of his neck. Jennifer retrieves it and Stiles looks at it in wonder.

 

“Am I supposed to think that it’s cool or am I supposed to fear for my life right now?”

“None.” She replies. “Seriously? I wasn’t going to kill him.”

“Please.” Says a voice in the shadows. “You were dying to kill Matt since day one.”

 

A thin girl with long brown wavy hair appears from an alley, coming towards them with an amused smile. Stiles can’t help but stare at the actual bow she carries on her shoulder.

 

“We need to go. The streets won’t be safe much longer for people like us.”

“You’re an emissary?” Stiles asks, surprised to see one of them carrying a weapon.

“Kind of.” She shrugs and then looks at him, as if she is trying to find an answer on his face. “I’m one of those we don’t talk about in History books.” She adds with a small dimpled smile reminding him of Danny.

“Are we taking my car or are we going on foot?”

“On foot. We’ll take shortcuts.”

 

Jennifer nods and, while Stiles and the girl move that Matt guy away against a dumpster, she parks her car.

 

“What do you mean those we don’t talk about in History books?”

“I’ll answer when we’re safe, okay? We need to hurry, I heard a lot of rumors about emissaries starting to be killed while coming here and I’m afraid it is really happening.”

 

Stiles curses along with Jennifer and they end up running in the streets, taking unexpected shortcuts through small restaurants or even hair salons. Stiles is starting to understand what Jennifer meant when she said they all knew each other. It’s not just because they belong to the same community, it’s because they are working together. Like an organization. They arrive in the basement of an abandoned building. The basement itself doesn’t look abandoned at all. Stiles sees beds and tables and, the more they march on, the more he can hear a faint noise of voices, people talking together in whispers.

 

He doesn’t take long for them to reach the others, talking together around tables that were hidden by the pillars when they got in. It’s weird. The place looks like a gigantic dormitory.

 

“What is this place?” he asks Jennifer but the other girl turn towards him to answer.

“Headquarters. Where we can gather and talk about our next missions.”

“Missions?”

“Yes. Helping emissaries and normal humans to escape, for example. Finding them a refuge or new identities, sometimes both.”

“Wait… are you guys like a resistance or something?”

“Of course we are.” Jennifer says with disdain. “Someone has to do something.”

 

Stiles watches her go to greet someone who is probably a friend. The girl smiles and gestures for him to sit at a table away from the others.

 

“So… there’s really a resistance? How does it work?”

“We recruit. It’s easy because a lot of us are dying to fight back. We have been preparing for the war but so far, it has been recruiting mostly, finding weapons, shelters, allies… You’d be surprised to know how many Weres are on our side in this.”

“What is our side exactly?”

“Equality. We want to go back to the time when both Humans and Weres worked together, helped each other.”

“You really think it’s possible.”

“Yeah, if you want it hard enough, of course. We have to be strong and protect those who cannot protect themselves and it starts with the will to change things. You have a power, right? What do you want to use it for? Hurting Weres or protecting the ones you love?”

“Protecting those I care about.” Stiles says immediately then bites his lip. “Well, depends. If I could hurt Peter or Deucalion, I would too.”

“But you do think that some Weres are good, right?”

“Sure. I mean, one of them saved me and never tried to hurt me…”

“The memory loss… how did it happen?”

 

Stiles shrugs, not surprised that a complete stranger knows about it. At this point, the whole Resistance must know about him and what happened.

 

“I don’t know. Deaton, I’m guessing you know him, told me it was a spell. But somehow it only started when I got that car accident. I just woke up on the road without knowing who I was.”

“You woke up on the road, not inside the jeep?”

 

Stiles frowns and tries to remember details about that night.

 

“Yeah, I was lying on the ground.”

“Who got you out? Derek?”

“I guess? Why? What’s wrong?”

“I’m just… what if you woke up first when you were still in the jeep and someone got to you, wiped you out while Derek was still unconscious? I mean it’s highly possible that you were running from something…”

“Wait… you think someone just followed me and erased my memory because they couldn’t kill me in front of Derek or something? It could have been because of the accident.”

“Come on, Derek is a werewolf, he would have noticed what killed you.”

 

Stiles shrugs and looks around. The girl keeps watching though, as if she wants to say something but doesn’t know if she can. It’s disturbing, to be treated as a fragile thing. It’s not like he’s weak, not anymore.

 

“What?” he snaps.

“It’s just… nothing. Didn’t you have questions?”

“Oh, right. Sorry, I just forgot, I guess…” Stiles apologizes, blushing. “You said you weren’t really an emissary. What are you, then?”

“A Hunter. Before the war… Emissaries used to advise Weres but when one of them went feral… they called the Hunters to kill or capture the wild ones. But my ancestors… well, you could say they pushed the Emissaries to take control. They were the ones thinking Weres had to be killed or captured, they couldn’t see the humanity in them…”

“It’s kind of a big deal then, why nobody talks about it?”

“Weres killed Hunters, all of them. And then they were erased of the History, as if their existence was a stain. Weres and Emissaries have always been close so they… forgave them. By enslaving them as a punishment instead of killing them.”

“So you’re not supposed to exist. Let me guess, some survived and stayed hidden.”

“Yeah. It’s a thing we can do, you know, hide and cover our tracks…”

“How many of you are left?”

“Not a lot. My family has only my dad and me left but our clan is bigger in France. There’s another important family in Mexico too.”

“I’m sorry, for your family.”

“I’m sorry for yours too, I guess. We can be sorry for pretty much everyone here.”

“Fair enough.”

“Can I ask you something too?”

 

Stiles smiles and nods.

 

“I knew you wanted to say something.”

“It’s about Peter. Did you meet him? You talked about him.”

“Oh, right… No I didn’t meet him but I started to remember things.”

“What do you remember?”

“Not much. How it was with Peter in his bedroom but you probably don’t want to know that…”

“I probably already do.” She says, wincing. “Do you remember… things about the people there? Like… friends?”

“Only my closest friends, Scott and Allison, but I can’t remember their faces.”

 

For some reasons, it makes the girl sighs but she covers it with an awkward cough.

 

“Why? Are you looking for someone in Peter’s house?”

“No. You are already here.”

“You were looking for _me_?”

“Yes. Look, we need you. We need you on our side. I know it means a lot to you and you could make a real change by helping us.”

“How can you know what I want? We just met.”

“Well, I—I used to work at Peter’s too.”

 

Stiles gapes at her but she just shrugs and turns her head when the door of the basement opens. She stands up and Stiles does the same, still looking at her with doubt. How is he supposed to know her when she doesn’t bring back any memories, even this close? That’s when it hits him. Just a detail. The jeep. She knows his car, as if she always knew it. He might be wrong on this but…

 

“Allison?!” exclaims a voice he knows.

 

Allison. _His_ Allison was right in front of him all this time and he couldn’t even remember her? He knows he should stop staring and turn to Lydia. Lydia. Who is here. In Los Angeles. And not in the Hale house. Where Derek and Cora are supposed to be right now.

 

“Oh my God.” He whispers, feeling his panic rising once again inside him. “It’s too much.”

“Stiles, it’s okay.” Allison says with sympathetic smile, her hand on his.

“I thought you were dead!” he hisses. “You could have told me right away who you were!”

“You didn’t seem to remember me, I’m sorry, I didn’t know you actually did! Anything I could have said could have triggered traumatizing memories and trust me, there are things you don’t want to remember.”

“Worse than what I already know?”

“Yeah, definitely. We used to talk a lot, you and I. You don’t remember but I saw you suffer Stiles, and it wasn’t pretty.”

“Are you guys done?” Lydia says when she reaches them. “Because I have bad news. It’s starting, tonight. Peter is coming to the Hale house.”

“Why would he do that?” Stiles asks when Allison curses.

“To gain more power. Of course. If he kills an Alpha, he gets their power.”

“Power for what?”

“To control this city.” Allison answers, taking out her phone. “And then the state, and then the whole country at least. He has allies, if he started his plan, so did the others. We need to warn them.”

“Danny’s on it upstairs. He got a call from Braeden, that’s how we knew and could escape before Peter came.”

“You couldn’t feel it?” Jennifer asks, getting closer and Lydia shakes her head.

“He’s blocking me. He knows what I am and he found a way to get around me somehow. I tried to warn the other emissaries back there but I don’t know if they’re going to make it in time.”

“Wait, Lydia, did you tell Derek?”

“Why would I? He’s in L.A., isn’t he?”

 

Stiles and Jennifer exchange a look before she hands him her car keys. Stiles hesitates but takes them, holding his breath. He knows it’s a bad idea, he knows he shouldn’t do this.

 

“I can’t come with you so be careful.”

“Stiles, what’s going on?”

“Derek and Cora went back home. I think it’s a trap or… I just don’t know but maybe I can help them.”

“Have you completely lost your mind? Against Peter? Do you even know who he is? He’s a psychopath!”

“I do. I know all that. But if Allison’s right, we aren’t safe here or anywhere. Besides, you know I owe Derek my life, I have to do something.”

“I know! That’s what makes it all so upsetting!” Lydia blurts out before clearing her throat and handing him a small black tissue bag. “Here, it’s mountain ash, just in case. It won’t save your life but you can try to trap Peter with it. Make a circle around him and he will be stuck in it until someone who is not a Were frees him. Remember that you don’t need to use everything, just a little will be enough.”

“Thanks, Lydia. I’ll be back soon.”

“You better be.”

 

She gives him a quick hug and steps back to let Allison come closer.

 

“The next time we see each other, I’ll remember you.”

“That’s a promise.”

 

***

 

Finding Jennifer’s car had been easy. She even told him that he could keep it and everything in the trunk. He hasn’t checked yet, but he can guess it contains weapons, normal ones and others probably a bit more… mystical. He knows he can’t stop. It’s not going to be as quiet as when Derek and him went to L.A., occasionally stopping or slowing down when Stiles wanted to enjoy the landscape.

 

As Lydia pointed out, “breaking the law” should be a good idea in this situation so he does and drives incredibly fast. He still knows how to drive, which is a huge relief. He couldn’t imagine asking for help when emissaries were apparently being killed everywhere without anyone noticing. But he couldn’t really hitchhike either. “Where are you going?” “Oh right now I’m just following the blood towards my werewolf boyfriend, no big deal really.”

 

Not that Derek is his boyfriend. But he could be. In Erica’s books, they would be. Derek is a boy and his friend, just not juxtaposed.

 

“God, Stiles focus!” he mutters between his teeth, driving even faster.

 

They thought it could only take him less than seven hours to drive there if he’s lucky. Right now, more than ten minutes sounds like an eternity and he wishes being an emissary was finally useful. He doesn’t think Peter will kill Derek or Cora. There’s a possibility but, according to Allison, Peter wants an Alpha’s power. So he must be after Talia and Laura. Stiles tries to understand why he would go after his own sister but he doesn’t see a logic there. But there is one, Peter always does something for a reason. How does _he_ know that, though, is another question. Ever since he remembers Peter, he also remembers how the man thinks. It’s frightening.

 

It probably means that he spent too much time by his side. And he’s only nineteen. Well, probably nineteen.

 

He should focus on driving and not having an accident. Again. He honestly doesn’t know how long he has been on the road, now. He finally starts to recognize his surroundings when the sun starts setting. Stiles can’t believe time went so fast today, he feels like he woke up only two hours ago and now… he really needs to keep track of time.

 

Stiles can feel himself both relaxing and tensing when he sees the Beacon Hills sign and slows down while entering the smaller city. The roads are abnormally empty and the stores are closed. He breathes deeply and keeps driving at a regular speed. Were the inhabitants warned? Stiles looks around but can’t see any signs of struggle or worse. He doesn’t know if it’s a good or a bad thing but if emissaries had been killed, he likes to think things wouldn’t be so quiet. Or dead. Which is a terrible choice of word. Stiles speeds up again once he leaves the empty town, knowing that he’s almost there. When he thinks he is close enough to the Hale house, Stiles parks the car in the woods and gets out. He checks out the trunk and isn’t surprised to see it indeed full of weapons. He takes only a gun and a knife before closing it and walking hopefully discreetly towards the house. It doesn’t take long before he hears voices, screams and wailings echoing in the woods. They didn’t make it. The emissaries of the house couldn’t escape in time. And now they’re dying. With a shaky breath, Stiles takes his gun and suddenly regrets not asking for help. Peter is probably not alone, what will he be able to do on his own with powers he can’t even control. He understands that anger is his trigger, but if fear outbalances it, he’s screwed. On the bright side, if he ends up being powerless, he will be ignored by most of them.

 

Stiles reaches the fence surrounding the house and can see Weres leaving the house. Not all of them, but enough for Stiles to actually have the chance to retrieve Derek and Cora. And Laura and Talia, because a stronger Peter is the last thing the world needs. But they aren’t his priority when it comes to saving people right now. He tries not to think about Erica and hopes she’s safe. She is only human and Lydia implied only emissaries were in danger, apart from the Alphas of the house. He waits a little longer and climbs the fence, praying to find a way to channel his inner agility for at least two minutes.

 

That isn’t much of a success and he nearly falls head first on the ground but nobody seems to notice it in the midst of the overwhelming chaos. He is going to suck so bad at that saving people thing, he can feel it. Stiles takes out his gun again – and yeah thank God it didn’t fire in his pants – and realizes the safety is on. He frowns. Why does he know things about guns too? He shakes his head and moves forward. That will be a question for quieter days. Now he needs to find the back door Lydia told him about, the one they escaped through. She said he only had to find a mistletoe carved in the stone. Stiles sighs and starts touching the walls, hoping he will feel it under his fingers if he can’t see it with the sun slowly disappearing behind the trees.  He is starting to worry about the Weres finding him at last when he finally feels something odd. He gets closer and thinks he sees long leaves. It has to be it. So he presses his palm against it. Focus. He thinks about that night with Deucalion, about how much he hates him, how much he wants him _dead_ for touching him. Stiles gasps when the wall sinks under his touch and walks on, palm still against the mistletoe. It’s as if he can feel it vibrating on his skin, acknowledging him. He keeps going into the dark until a faint ray of light starts appearing at the corners of the moving rectangular wall. When he finally reaches what seems to be an old abandoned corridor enlightened by dying candles, something clashes into him, cutting off his breath. He looks down and sees an amount of blonde hair in his nose.

 

“Erica?” he asks in a whisper.

 

His friend looks up and nods.

 

“I’m so glad you’re okay!”

“Me too” he admits, only realizing by seeing her how much he was worried about her. “But what are you doing here?”

“Hiding, duh. Peter’s taking all the humans of the house with him.”

“So he’s really here, huh… What about… the others?”

“Dead. All dead apart from Lydia and Danny. It was awful, their bodies are everywhere. There is _blood_ everywhere.” She answers with a grim expression and Stiles thinks he sees traces of tears against her cheeks. “Then Derek and his sister arrived and I just knew you’d come too. I helped Lydia and Danny to escape so I figured you’d come from here. I got away just in time. They started to take humans out of their rooms just after killing the emissaries, bringing the others already on the scene in their vans.”

“How did you escape from so many Weres?”

“Derek. Derek knows the hidden passages of the manor. He saw me and covered me so I could escape through one of them. Just had to make Peter pay attention to him. It wasn’t hard, he just mentioned you. I don’t think Peter likes the fact that you came willingly to Derek instead of, you know, the usual.”

“God, what an idiot. He can’t just provoke Peter!”

“I think he already did, several times. But Peter’s not after him anyway.”

“He’s after Talia.” Stiles nods. “Where are they? And what are you going to do?”

“Make a run for it. Boyd should find me half way. And they’re in Talia’s office upstairs. Be careful.”

“Thanks, you too. And who’s Boyd again?”

“You’re not the only one with a werewolf boyfriend, Stiles, remember?” Erica snorts before giving him another hug, shorter this time. “Come on, we need to move. See you around?”

“See you, yeah.”

 

Stiles watches her go the same way he came in before moving up the corridor. He forgot to ask what he will have to face at the end of it but she didn’t seem worried about that. Either she has badass skills or there’s no one else in the house anymore apart from the Hales. Stiles sincerely hopes it’s the latter when he slides the thinner wall to really enter the house this time. Erica wasn’t exaggerating about the blood. It is everywhere on the floor and walls, corpses scattered on the ground. Stiles has to contain his retching before going up the stairs, trying to focus on his steps instead of… of everything else around him. He knows he shouldn’t look at the faces of people that used to be his friends. Not as close as Danny, Lydia and Erica but they were still friends, stuck with him in the same nightmare. Now is not the time for crying either. Stiles brings up his t-shirt against his nose to cover the smell and walks. He still remembers the way to Talia’s room from the day he followed Derek after their night. He knows it’s possible to spy what they’re saying without entering but he isn’t sure that he will have the time to do so. It’s been too long already and for all he knows, Talia or Laura might have been killed already. And then it will probably be Derek or Cora’s turn. So he needs to come in. Just come inside, find Peter and shoot him. Hopefully, it will slow him down and help them escape. He lets out a shaky breath and grips his gun tighter. He can do this. He has to.

 

Stiles arrives at the floor where they are and isn’t surprised to see it clean. Talia probably wanted to talk to her brother, she couldn’t just attack him when she was outnumbered. But if she feels safe now that he’s alone with the four of them, it’s a grave mistake. He doesn’t even realizes he has been walking faster until he is in front of the door. They must know he’s here already. He opens the door and raises his gun, ready. Except that he can’t fire. He hears Laura’s scream and barely sees Peter surging towards Talia and slashing her throat, blood spilling all over her chest and the floor.

 

But Stiles doesn’t see Talia when her throat is slashed, it’s not her blood is sees pouring from the wound, painting his whole world red. He doesn’t see Derek’s mother. No, he feels like a little boy again.

 

A little boy watching his mother being killed in front of him a second time.


	6. Control

Stiles can’t unsee it. The long light brown and wavy hair of his mother, tainted with blood, her bright blue eyes pleading him to flee before the light in them dies. Along with her. Then he hears the gunshot but he doesn’t know who fired. Him or his dad behind him.

 

“Stiles!”

 

Derek. It’s Derek’s voice. Stiles blinks several times and the sight of his dying mother finally fades away and reality comes back to him. He looks around and sees Talia on the ground, dead, and Peter is right next to her, hand pressing on his chest. Now why would he do that? Stiles looks down at his own hand and lets out a surprised gasp. Right. The gunshot wasn’t just in his mind. Somehow, he did fire. Stiles finally turns to see Derek and his sisters on the ground, unable to move. He needs to do something.

 

“What now?” he asks Derek in a strangled voice.

“Mountain ash.” He answers, looking down at his feet.

 

Stiles follows his gaze and notices the black powder at their feet and understands why they couldn’t move. Then he remembers that he has some too thanks to Lydia and hurries to Peter, ignoring Derek and Cora’s distressed yells behind him. He fumbles in his pocket to retrieve the small bag. Not all of it, Lydia said. He takes a handful and starts walking around Peter, letting it fall irregularly on the ground. He doesn’t know how it’s supposed to work with only that much in his hand but decides to trust Lydia on this. He can see Peter slowly raising his head beside him, already healing and Stiles hurries. This has to work. He finishes the circle just when Peter’s hand goes to catch him and hits an invisible wall instead.

 

“Now, now, look who got cocky.” He snarls, blood spilling on his chin. “I still have plans for you, boy.”

“Yeah, well, thank God I can’t remember those.” Stiles mutters going back to Derek and his sisters. “How do I free you?”

“Just break the circle with your hands.” Cora says, sounding exhausted.

 

Stiles nods and does as indicated. The three Hales then get out and all look down at the corpse of their mother still bleeding next to Peter, her long black hair now sticking to her head. Stiles can’t look at her and her eyes, open and lifeless. He has to bury his memories for now, not let them drown him like last time. Cora is the first one of them to react and look away, up towards Stiles.

 

“We need to go now. They’re maybe gone but they could have heard the gunshot. Besides, Laura needs help.”

 

Stiles turn to Laura who had been silent ever since she screamed when Talia was killed. He can see now her side badly wounded and thinks her ribs are coming out of her skin.

 

“I’m fine.” She growls to her sister. “It’s not like you care about your family anyway.”

 

Cora just rolls her eyes and goes towards the door, Derek on her steps, his hand gently reaching to hold Stiles’ waist.

 

“Are you okay?” he asks, looking worried, and Stiles wonders how he can ask him that just after seeing his own mother killed in front of him.

“Who cares about your boy toy?” Laura mutters, going past them.

“Yeah, right, it’s not like I just saved your ass.” Stiles retorts, getting closer to Derek just in case she feels like retaliating physically.

 

She just scowls at him and disappears in the corridor. Derek looks behind them towards his uncle. They exchange a long look and Stiles is dying to know what it means. Sometimes, he forgets that they are family. They probably meant a lot to each other, once. Stiles gently pulls Derek by the hand.

 

“Come on. You’ll do the staring contest another day. I don’t want to die now, it’ll be stupid.”

 

Peter snorts and turns his gaze to him. Stiles quickly looks away and leaves the room, dragging Derek with him. Hearing his voice is more than enough. He hates it, he hates so much that tone he uses when he knows he has complete power over you and that, the more you fight, the more you suffocate. Of course, Peter had to be his trigger; nothing seems to make him more angry than him, not even Deucalion.

 

“Why isn’t he saying anything anyway?” Stiles says when they’re in the stairs

“There’s no point. He knows we aren’t going to kill him just like he knows we won’t free him, not after killing… our mother. He doesn’t have to threaten us either, we are well aware of what he will do to us when he finds us, aren’t we? Now, what happened to you?”

“A flashback.” Stiles answers in a strained voice. “Why aren’t we killing him, by the way?”

“Because the second he gets out of the circle, we’re all dead. Laura is injured while Cora and I are only Betas. And you don’t control your powers.”

 

Stiles is suddenly grateful of Derek’s hand in his, anchoring him when fear is threatening to drown him along with the memories of his own mother, just waiting at the edge of his mind. And he knows he doesn’t want to remember this, he can’t. So he tightens his grip on Derek’s hand and focus on that, on Derek’s thumb slowly stroking his hand. He feels bad, he should be the one comforting Derek.

 

“I’m sorry, about your mother. I wish I arrived sooner.”

 

He can feel Derek shrug behind him and knows that the discussion on this subject is over. There’s nothing much to say anyway. They join Cora and Laura and Stiles is surprised to see them going to the front door. He trusts their supernatural hearing but still doesn’t feel safe when he arrives on the porch and goes down the now stained marble stairs. He feels watched and he can tell the others have the same feeling. The four of them gets to Derek’s car and Cora drives, probably the less tired in the band.

 

“How did you come here?”

“Oh, right. Jennifer’s car. I hid it in the woods before coming here.”

“Okay. Tell me where to turn so we can go get it. We probably need to split so a second car will be useful.”

 

Stiles nods. He can’t help but be surprised by Cora’s ability to plan but maybe it’s because she was living on her own for quite some time. Besides, considering her group of friends and her way of thinking, Stiles wouldn’t be surprised if she was one of those allies of the Resistance. They drive in silence but Stiles doesn’t allow himself to think just yet so he concentrates on the road, the never ending pattern of the white lines on the ground. Then he recognizes the area where he decided to hide the car earlier and warns Cora. It was hard to be sure in the night but he was right. They find the car right away and all get out of the Camaro. They look at each other in silence for some few minutes before one of them finally starts talking.

 

“So we split?” Stiles asks.

“Yeah. No matter what Laura says, she needs help. Emissary help.”

“You know she’s right, Laura.” Derek cuts before his sister can retort anything. “You go back to L.A. then and take Jennifer’s car. Stiles and I will find a motel or something in the state and wait for your news.”

 

When they all seem to agree, Stiles goes into Jennifer’s trunk to take some few weapons, bullets and herbs he doesn’t recognize just yet before joining Derek against the Camaro. Cora and Laura gets in the car and, after exchanging some word along the lines of “be careful” and “you should probably avoid Beacon Hills, it was creepy”, the girls go, leaving them alone in the dark woods.

 

“Where are we going?”

“Far away from here, in case we need to leave the state.”

“You think we will have to?”

“We might. Peter wanted power and he got it, he can control anything he want easily now, especially with Deucalion with him.”

 

Stiles nods and turns to him, leaning closer.

 

“I guess we really must go now, then.”

“Remember what we said?” Derek reminds him, raising an eyebrow. “Friendship first.”

“Come on, I wasn’t trying anything at all! And, by the way, Cora and Jennifer think we should go to the dating phase now. Apparently friend and boyfriend can work well together as well.”

“My mother just died, Stiles. Finding someone isn’t my priority right now.”

 

Stiles sighs.

 

“I know, and I’m sorry, okay. But what’s stopping you? If we hadn’t known I was an emissary, would you have put that distance between us?”

“I don’t know, Stiles, and I don’t care.” Derek exclaims, annoyed before going to his side of the car. “Can you not make things about you at least tonight?”

“I’m not even going to dignify this with an answer.” Stiles retorts, getting in the car.

“Are you really going to complain because I don’t want to deal with your feelings tonight?” Derek shouts, slamming his own door. “Do you really think that what I want right now is to take care of your poor little self?”

“I don’t care. I am not talking to you anymore.”

“That’s childish.” Derek remarks, starting the Camaro and going back on the road.

“Whatever, Derek. What is childish is to never know what you want. And when I say that, I’m talking about you, in case you were wondering.” Stiles adds, turning his head when they go past the little road meeting the Hale house.

“Oh and if you’re so smart, what do I want, then?”

“Me!” Stiles rants. “What you want is me! Why else would you have claimed me? I have been informed of what it means for you, Derek. Freaking engagement! I’m sorry, Derek but you don’t decide to get engaged with your _friend_ , or else you have serious boundaries issues, dude. Besides, everyone, absolutely everyone has been calling you my _boyfriend_ because your crush on me is as obvious as mine on you, I’m sure it can be seen from space! Your denial is so strong you could wear a t-shirt saying “I am pining hard for Stiles but not in a gay way”, it wouldn’t make a difference.”

 

Stiles can see Derek’s hands clench on the steering wheel but he doesn’t answer, eyes on the road. Stiles lets out and exasperated sigh before sinking into his seat and looking at the road too. He doesn’t know if Derek is just going to ignore him or is just waiting for them to be far away enough to say anything. Or kill him. But maybe he just doesn’t care and Stiles was reading too much in signs that weren’t even there and, even if he ever happened to be right, it probably wasn’t the right time to bring it up. He himself didn’t even realize until the words were out that he needed to talk about it. Stiles ends up falling asleep, too tired after that nerve-wracking day and only wakes up in the middle of the day with the sun bright in the sky and desert surrounding them. They are still on the road and Stiles wonders if Derek stopped at some point. Maybe not. Maybe what he needs is to focus on driving to forget what happened last night.

 

“Where are we?” Stiles asks, yawning.

“On the road.” Derek deadpans and okay, he’s still mad.

“You know what? Fuck you, Derek. If you want to leave me on the side of the road to die, you are more than welcome to do so.”

“Do you ever shut up? Go back to sleep.”

“That won’t work. I just asked something, okay, and you attacked me right away. What did I ever do to you?”

“What? You mean apart for coming into my life and fuck it up? Not much, really.”

“Oh my God! I am so sorry for getting in an accident with a werewolf who should have seen it coming in the first place! I am very sorry for doing absolutely nothing apart from dying on the road! I am sorry I forced you to take care of me afterwards except that I didn’t! What else do you want me to apologize for? Running to save you from Peter _twice_ in less than twenty-four hours? Well I am sorry for putting my life in danger for you again and again!”

“Fuck this.” Derek mutters, turning abruptly the car to stop it on the sand, alongside the road. “Out. Get the fuck out.”

“You’re leaving me _here_?” He squeals.

“Well, you gave me your authorization earlier, remember?” Derek reminds him but he gets out of the car as well.

“That doesn’t mean you can leave me in the middle of fucking nowhere!” Stiles argues, following him outside. “Are you completely out of your mind?”

“Stop complaining, I am not leaving you here.”

“Oh.” Stiles mutters, leaning against the hood of the car. “What is this all about, then? Wanna shout to the clouds because me isn’t enough?”

“You’re such an idiot. You keep putting yourself as a victim but nobody asked you to come to save me, alright? I never wanted you to come, it was your choice and your choice only, I don’t have to be thankful when you put at risk the life I saved!”

“It’s my life, Derek, it doesn’t belong to you and I’m pretty sure I can do what I want with it. So you should be at least thankful when I save you.”

“Well, I am not! I think it’s stupid! I am the strong one, here, Stiles, I don’t need your help!”

“This is bullshit, I did help you and you know it!” Stiles storms, standing up to confront Derek. “Look at me. Look at me and tell me why you keep pushing me away every time we finally get closer!”

“Because we shouldn’t! We shouldn’t get closer!” Derek roars and Stiles thinks he hears discouragement in his voice. “Because it’s not safe for you and one of us is going to get hurt before all this is over! You only think you want all this because I took care of you once and it’s just dumb! All it does is putting your life in danger _twice in less than twenty-four hours_! You were safe with Jennifer and yet here you are, with me in a desert! When will you realize that it doesn’t make any sense?”

“It makes sense to me! Your mother was killed and the first thing you did was to call my name! She died and you asked _me_ if I was okay! And this wasn’t only last night, you’ve been doing this ever since I know you, putting me first when you shouldn’t. How do you want me not to fall for you when you keep caring about me like this?” Stiles yells back, his voice breaking.

 

Derek just looks at him in disbelief before kissing him hard, holding him close. Stiles barely has the time to register what is happening that Derek lifts him up on the hood of the car. His hands fly up to Derek’s hair, pressing his body against his and taking everything he can from Derek’s tongue, sucking it up inside his mouth and moaning when Derek bites his lip in retaliation. He can keeps his hands from touching Derek, getting under his Henley to feel Derek’s skin and muscles moving as he crowds Stiles further against the car. Stiles sighs and Derek’s hands caress his thighs, holding them firmly and sex, sex needs to happen right now.

 

He must have said it out loud because Derek backs away, taking off his jacket and letting fall in the sand. Stiles straightens to help him get rid of his t-shirt as well. He fumbles with his belt and blushes when it makes Derek chuckle, hot breath running along his neck. Stiles leans back to let him kiss his throat and shivers when Derek hands runs up along his thighs to get under his t-shirt, dragging his nails down his stomach and in his pants.

 

“Oh, God, yes.” He moans, closing his eyes. “I want you so badly, _please_.”

“I noticed.” Derek retorts with a smug smile before kissing him again, hot and dirty.

 

Stiles’ back meets the hot metal of the car but he can’t even pay attention to it, not when Derek keeps one hand inside his underwear and jerks him with a firm grip. He can’t pay attention to anything _at all_ when Derek kisses him like this, as if he wants to take everything from Stiles, show that he is _his_. Derek’s other hand comes to hold his face, stroking his cheek, so Stiles tries to angle himself so he can finally get Derek out of his pants.

 

A part of him remembers that they are in the middle of nowhere and that no one can hide them if anyone comes by and he really should not find this so exciting. It doesn’t seem to matter when he can feel Derek’s cock in his hand. The angle is not perfect but Stiles strokes it as best as he can.

 

“We should probably take this inside.” Stiles finally says between kisses, panting slightly.

 

Derek hums but doesn’t stop, he even goes faster. The bastard.

 

“Derek, I know you want to show your beloved clouds that I’m yours but I don’t wanna die because it was literally too hot.”

 

Derek sighs and kisses him one last time before letting go, picking up his jacket and t-shirt on the ground. Maybe Stiles takes the time to watch him bend over, his unbuttoned jeans showing enough of his ass to make him drool. Derek opens the door for him and waits, looking at him with annoyance and Stiles laughs, nudging him on the arm.

 

“Come on, you can still make the car move while fucking me.” He suggests with a wink.

“Try to remember that it’s your idea, then.” Derek says lightly.

 

Stiles gives him a cocky smile as he lies down, spreading his legs for him. Derek leans forwards and unbuttons his pants, pulling them down his legs along with his briefs. Then he comes inside the car, closing the door behind him. It’s tight and hot but Stiles just appreciates the fact that Derek is surrounding him, one arm above his head and the other one going between Stiles’ legs. Stiles puffs against Derek’s neck when he feels his fingers stroking his rim.

 

“Lick them for me.” Derek whispers and drags his hand up Stiles’ torso to press his thumb against Stiles’ mouth.

 

He opens it and sucks on Derek’s fingers, one by one and looking up to meet his gaze. Because some part of him apparently knows how to be seductive. As Derek’s brings back his hand between Stiles’ legs, he reaches up to meet Derek’s lip and brings him back against his body. He needs to take off his t-shirt but that would mean pulling away from Derek and it is just not possible. Well it is but he can’t stop kissing Derek and feeling him against his skin. Stiles sighs in the kiss when Derek finally enters him with already two fingers and wow, it’s happening, they are really going to do it this time.

 

“Oh, fuck.” Stiles pants as Derek starts moving. “Are you in a hurry?”

“Yes.” Derek growls, capturing his lips again and letting a third finger comes in.

 

Stiles accidently scratches Derek’s neck while entangling his fingers into his hair but it only makes the werewolf moan.

 

“You’re a kinky one.” Stiles jokes, breathless.

“And I’m going to fuck you, now, if you don’t mind.”

 

Stiles laughs and helps him taking off his pants, watching as Derek lowers his own pants and briefs before lining himself between his legs. Stiles lets his head fall back against the seat and closes his eyes when Derek penetrates him with a content sigh. Quickly, he keeps his promise to let everyone knows Stiles is his and pounds hard into him. Stiles finds himself clinging to Derek, nails digging into his back. Derek buries himself further inside him as he puts his head against his chest, biting Stiles’ nipples through the fabric.

 

“Off… That t-shirt needs to go.” Stiles whines, desperate to feel Derek’s stubble against his skin.

 

Smiling, Derek straightens up, holding him by the waist and gets him out of his t-shirt then chuckles when Stiles struggles with it.

 

“Shut up, I’m sexy.” He mutters against his lips, feeling his smile.

“Very.”

 

Derek drags his lips along Stiles’ throat and licks the bite mark that isn’t fading, hopefully never will. He holds him close, thrusts becoming stronger again, relentless. Stiles has to press his palms against the steamy window behind Derek to be able to ride him properly. But he just slides against him when Derek hits him just right, his hand looking for support on Derek’s forearm.

 

“Does it hurt?” Derek suddenly asks, even though he seems nowhere near slowing down his rhythm.

“Who cares? How do you do that, God, it feels so good.” Stiles chokes, head against the window.

 

Derek answers him by gently kissing him over his heart that misses a beat when he does it. Stiles doesn’t think he can understand how Derek can be both rough and tender right now but he likes it. A lot. Stiles takes Derek’s head between his hands and leans down to give him a messy and sloppy kiss. Derek kisses him back while going faster and doesn’t stop even after Stiles cries out. He holds him with one hand on his neck and the other around his waist, still going deep inside him. Derek whispers him sweet nothings, lips pressed against his ear, and finally comes with several brutal thrusts some few minutes later. Stiles loses his breath but he finds it again in Derek’s mouth. Which is… terribly cheesy and he will never ever tell him the thoughts crossing his mind right now. They keep kissing for a while, Stiles enjoying Derek’s sweaty body against him, his hand holding his jaw and his tongue sucking on his with languor. Derek’s lips keep on kissing him along his jaw and throat and Stiles’ eyes flutter shut when his stubble scratches his skin.

 

“Are we dating, now?” Stiles whispers, voice hoarse.

 

Derek laughs a real laugh this time and Stiles takes pride in being the reason behind it.

 

“Yes, Stiles. I believe we are.”

 

***

 

They arrive in a motel one hour later and share a shower right away, still feeling sticky from their unexpected intercourse in the desert. Besides, Stiles feels hot and not in a positive and attractive way. So they shower and then come back into the room. To make out for possibly an hour and Stiles knows he shouldn’t be all over Derek like he is ever since the car _incident_. But there are a lot of things he shouldn’t do when it comes to him and he still ends up doing them, so. Besides, Derek isn’t stopping him for once.

 

“Can cuddling be a thing too?” Stiles asks and Derek raises an eyebrow. “I think we should cuddle.”

 

Derek snorts and opens his arms with a defeated sighs.

 

“This is going to end up in talking about feelings, right?”

“I can contain myself. It’s not like I talk all the time.” Stiles protests and scowls when Derek’s other eyebrow rises as well. “I hate you, just so you know.”

“Oh really? I thought you couldn’t help but fall for me.”

“Shut up! Okay maybe I like you a lot, but I still hate you.” Stiles mutters into Derek’s chest, his arms coming up to embrace him. “And you know what. We are going to talk about feelings. Yours.”

“What about my feelings?”

“Well… about your mother… are you going to be okay?”

 

Derek just shrugs.

 

“Eventually. It’s just hard to realize it yet. Harder when I remember that her own brother killed her.”

“Why? Why would Peter kill her and not a random Alpha instead?”

“There are several ways to become an Alpha. By yourself, by birth but also by killing another Alpha. Peter decided to keep the power of my mother in our family by killing her himself. He thinks it’s fair.”

“That doesn’t make sense.”

“It does to him. He used to think she was too weak to be an Alpha, too nice and too forgiving, even though his blue eyes are a proof that he’s not an Alpha accepted by nature... Only murderers have them blue. They had an argument after the fire and Peter ended up leaving our pack to build his own with Weres sharing his vision… Like Deucalion or even humans.”

“Humans? Who would be dumb enough to…” Stiles starts and then remembers the guy Allison knocked down. “Oh, actually, I believe we met one of them, yeah… Why does he need them?”

“Trap enemies, for example. Anyone human can use mountain ash, that’s how he trapped us, he asked one human of his to draw the circle around us.”

“Why didn’t you do anything?”

“My mother asked us to stay still. She probably thought she could talk to him.”

“I’m sorry…” Stile says again. “One minute earlier and she could have been saved…”

“He would have heard you before you came in, it’s not your fault. Besides you did shoot him when you could.”

 

Stiles can feel that Derek is holding something back, something he wants to say or ask. That’s right, he almost blacked out again back there.

 

“I think my mom was killed too.” he blurts out and what a nice way to start this subject.

 

Derek tenses behind him.

 

“What do you mean?”

“The flashback I got. It was that. I didn’t see your mother, I saw mine being killed in front of me and I felt younger, like maybe ten years younger… I heard the gunshot but I thought it was my dad, not me…”

“Do you think it was Peter?”

“No… but it was a Were. My dad must have killed him or her.”

“Sorry to hear that. You should have told me what you saw before…”

“You mean before we started arguing? I think it ended well and maybe some things needed to be said. I kinda started it anyway.”

“We can’t only have sex because we need to make up, Stiles. It’s not healthy.”

“It’s a bit exhausting, maybe, but it isn’t unhealthy.”

“You know what I mean.”

“Yeah, yeah, I do. Next time we’ll try to communicate without yelling and maybe it won’t lead to angry boners.”

“Your wording is sometimes really painful to hear.”

“I’m ignoring that. Also, let’s have sex again now, then.”

“Why?” Derek asks, sounding confused. “You don’t even want it, I would have felt it.”

“Because we aren’t arguing and everything’s quiet. It’s not like we have better things to do while waiting for Cora’s call.”

“How about you take my laptop and try to figure out what is the purpose of those herbs you took in Jennifer’s car, instead?”

“What? How did you even notice that? Is it the power of true love?”

“I happen to have eyes, Stiles. And I’m not blind.”

“So you don’t want me?” Stiles pouts.

“Not right now, no. We can live without having sex, you know.”

“That’s deep, man. But what if I don’t want to do anything?”

 

Derek sighs and doesn’t answer, lying back against the bedhead. Stiles ends up falling asleep in the middle of drawing patterns against Derek’s chest and he actually sleeps well. Firstly because it’s without nightmares but he even has dreams. Dreams of them; making out on a sandy beach, with the warm sunset in the background… Stiles wakes up confused, Derek still under him, and wonders why that dream seemed to make sense at the time. Maybe he shouldn’t read those books anymore. He yawns and gets up quietly, trying to let Derek sleep. He hopes he doesn’t dream about his mother but of cheesy things like he did and he feels glad that he himself didn’t have those bad dreams for once.

 

Stiles checks out Derek’s phone and is worried to see that Cora still hasn’t called. What if something bad happened to the others in L.A.? He still has difficulties to figure out what exactly Peter plans to do now. Kill the emissaries in the entire world? Even control the world? Can he really do that? Stiles figures it isn’t hard for him to find allies in his crazy cause. Even in the Hale house, he met Weres who hated Emissaries and only requested Humans. Others took Emissaries to hurt them. Even Lydia had some rough clients. But he doesn’t want to think about how things would have been for her at Peter’s. Rough doesn’t even begin to describe it.

 

“Come here.” Derek yawns behind him.

“Sorry, I’m just worried, didn’t mean to wake you.”

“I am not awake right now so if you shut up, you won’t.” Derek retorts, eyes closed.

 

Stiles snorts and goes back to bed with the phone in his hand. They stay in the motel yet another day when Cora finally calls, bringing bad news.

 

“Good news first I guess” she sighs and Derek puts her on speaker. “Laura is with Ennis, Kali and Jennifer, she’s doing better and they’re taking care of her.”

“Who are they?”

“Kali is Jennifer’s girlfriend.” Derek reminds him. “And I think Laura and Ennis started to date some few weeks ago.”

“Yup. Some people do that dating thing.”

“Well, Cora, you’ll be thrilled to know that your brother and I are finally together and that the wedding will take place soon in some crappy motel with Peter as my bridesmaid.”

“Fi-fucking-nally! Congratulations! Talking about Peter, here comes the bad news. They killed the mayor during the night, it has been a huge mess around here but, in the end, Peter and his bad guys buddies took control of the city. We heard that emissaries are now being sold to them and killed right away… The same thing is happening in several cities in the state and outside as well.”

“How bad is it outside?”

“Soon it’ll be like here. They were just waiting for Peter to make his move. We are going to leave in less than an hour and try to join other HQ’s of the Resistance. I know you know what I’m talking about, big bro.”

“I knew it!” Stiles exclaims. “I knew you were an ally!”

“Stiles, calm down.” Derek sighs, putting his hand on his shoulder. “Yeah, I do… Do you want us to come back or do we meet outside?”

“I’d say it’s too risky to travel in packs. We are all going different ways by two or three, maximum four. When we know a group is in danger, we will try to connect them with another group we know isn’t far… It’s going to be so messy, I can’t wait. Where were you guys heading?”

“I’d say North, but we’ll go South first to check cities closer to Los Angeles, I need to see something.”

“Okay, be safe. The girls and I are going East, they want us to reach New York in time to stop the massacre before it begins but I don’t know if we’re going to make it… Allison, Lydia and Danny left yesterday already.” She adds and Stiles fidgets at the mention of his friend’s name, though he still can’t remember her.

“Who will you be with?”

“Malia and Kira, because we are strong independent women.”

 

Derek snorts but Stiles doesn’t understand what makes him so amused.

 

“We call each other every Wednesday?” Derek suggests. “Say it to Laura.”

“I will. By the way, she says thanks, Stiles. And she apologizes for being such a butthead. Not in those words exactly, actually, I’d say it was maybe an apology ruder than anything but you get it.”

“Good. She can start apologizing for many things now.”

“Let’s hope you’ll live long enough to hear them all. All right, I need to go. See you on Wednesday.”

 

Cora hangs up right away. Stiles turns to Derek who sighs loudly.

 

“When do you want to go?” Stiles asks.

“Tomorrow would be the safest, I think.”

“Okay.”

 

Stiles waits a beat before talking again.

 

“What are we going to do, though? We have nowhere to go. Shouldn’t we wait for others?”

“Others? Stiles, we don’t even know how many are still alive. We can’t wait for anything, or else the only thing that will find us is trouble.”

“You think they’re going to send people after us? Don’t they have better things to do like killing everyone?”

“That’s the thing, Stiles. Peter is cleaning the world from what he thinks shouldn’t be here and that includes us. He knows us, of course he’s going to send people after us at some point.”

 

Stiles swallows and stands up, pacing.

 

“So we just run away and we hide with the hope that no one will find us?”

“We run away and we pray that Peter doesn’t send Deucalion on your tracks.” Derek replies. “Because he will find you and when he does, he will kill us.”

 

***

 

[Scott]

 

Scott is running faster than ever, looking over his shoulder. When Peter found out about Isaac and Braeden helping Derek, Scott understood right away that they needed to flee. That’s the thing, about Peter, he doesn’t talk, he kills when someone doesn’t go his way. There’s no such thing as a second chance. Scott knows he got lucky once. Peter chose to turn him instead of killing him. But he doesn’t feel lucky, not when the consequences were losing his two best friends.

 

He could give everything to see Allison again. To see Stiles’ smile again.

 

So this time, when he could save two of his friends, he took his chance and went against Peter, leaving enough time for Isaac and Braeden to flee. He’s only a Beta and Peter is stronger now, but he has a stronger will. Sometimes, he thinks he wants his friends’ safety more than Peter wants them dead, as if killing was just a necessary detail to the Alpha.

 

Now he’s running. He escaped from Peter but not without a serious wound. He can feel it bleeding, rubbing against his torn apart t-shirt. He had wounds before but this time, it’s different. This time it’s not healing, no matter how hard he tries. Of course, running won’t make things better but he can’t stop, he can’t let them catch him. Stiles is alive and well. He can’t die before seeing him again. So he runs and runs until his legs can’t support him anymore and he falls on the ground, panting heavily. He hears footsteps behind him, getting closer. He curses and tries to get up. Stiles. He can’t give up. Scott feels a hand on his shoulder and he turns abruptly only to meet bright yellow eyes. A Beta. He sighs, relieved. He can fight against a Beta.

 

“Wait.” The boy tells him. “I just want to help you.”

 

Scott frowns and looks at him suspiciously, trying to see the lie in his features and heartbeat, but all he feels is calm and trust. Scott takes the hand he offers to help him get up.

 

“I’m Scott.”

“Boyd. Come with me, you need to lie down and rest.” He remarks, gesturing at his wounded hip.

 

Scott nods and follows him into the streets, still worried that they might be attacked. Thankfully, nothing happens and they arrive to what must be Boyd’s building safely. They take the stairs until the third floor, Scott wincing at every step, and the door opens on a beautiful blonde girl. She smells human, which surprises him. Boyd greets her with a light kiss on the forehead and Scott smiles. He is lucky after all; a werewolf in love with a human can’t be bad.

 

The girl helps him towards the sofa while Boyd prepares a soup for him. She leaves only to come back with pillows and blankets. Scott thanks her while she sits beside him on the coffee table.

 

“I’m Erica, by the way.” She says.

“Nice to meet you, I’m Scott.” He replies, carefully putting a pillow underneath him.

“What happened to you?”

“Peter Hale happened. I helped some friends to escape from him and had to fight him. You can guess that it wasn’t much of a success but at least we’re all safe for now.”

“He’s the one who helped Braeden”. Boyd reminds her from the kitchen. “She called me and I came to find you.” Boyd then explains when he comes back with a hot bowl. “Here, drink this, it’ll warm you up.”

“Thank you. You know Braeden?”

 

Boyd nods while he slurps his soup, enjoying the warmth flowing in his body.

 

“She’s my half-sister.”

 

Scott looks up and thinks he can see something similar in their features. Their behaviors, on the other hand, are like night and day, from what he sees. Braeden is wild, almost fearless and stubborn. Boyd looks like a calm, understanding and cautious boy. Somehow, he seems a lot older than him but Scott can tell they must have only one year difference between them. Scott can also admit that he is the impulsive kind, sometimes. Having Stiles and Allison at his side proved to be useful more than once.

 

“What are you guys doing?”

“It’s too late to leave the city now. We’ll probably leave tomorrow. What about you?”

“I don’t know… I need to call my mom for help but also to know if she’s safe. But if I can’t reach her and if I can’t heal… I will need Deaton’s help. He’s an emissary.”

“I know him, he’s in the Resistance.”

 

Scott frowns. He thought he heard Braeden mention it but he doesn’t know much about it. Seeing Erica’s curious expression, she wants to know more too. Boyd crosses his arms and sighs.

 

“The Resistance is just a group of people who’ve been trying to help Humans for years against the werewolf supremacy, to be short. Let’s say an emissary feels threatened, if the Resistance hears about it in time, they can help that person escape from the house and give her or him a new identity.”

 

Erica laughs suddenly, understanding something.

 

“Let me guess, a dude called Danny takes care of that.”

“Yes, how do you know?”

“I just guessed. He was in the Hale house with me.”

 

Scott suddenly turns to her, hurting his side on the process.

 

“Oh, shit…” he swears, touching his bleeding side. “You’re from the Hale house? Did you see Stiles?”

“Yeah, but it was a while ago.”

“Is he okay?”

 

Erica shrugs while Boyd gets up to go back in the kitchen.

 

“I think so. Peter was still in the house when I left, so if he was hurt, you’d know.”

 

Scott sighs in relief. Erica is right, if Peter killed Stiles, he would have bragged about it, probably shaking his corpse under Scott’s nose. Boyd comes back with a wet towel and puts it on Scott’s wounds.

 

“Sorry, that’s all we have. Do you have a phone to call your mother?”

 

Scott nods and Erica helps him take it from his back pocket. He dials his mother’s number several times but he always ends up on her voice mailbox. He tries not to worry after the fifth failure. They kept in touch after Scott decided to follow Stiles, years ago now, but he knows she is always busy. Especially now, since she is a nurse, she probably has plenty to do if the other towns are like Los Angeles. So he tries to call Deaton instead and he answers almost immediately.

 

“Scott? Is there something wrong?”

“Not just one thing. But right now, I can’t heal. I tried to reach my mom but she didn’t reply…”

“So you need my help.”

“If possible, yeah.”

“I’m afraid there’s a complication, I am not in Los Angeles anymore.”

“What, where are you?”

“I am going to Minneapolis. There is a rumor about an ancient book and I would love to possess it. All emissaries are leaving town, unfortunately, and so should you.”

“I know, I will soon. But I don’t know how long I can travel like this.”

“What happened?”

“Peter clawed me and it’s not healing ever since.”

 

Deaton makes that thinking sound Scott almost knows by heart now.

 

“I think I know what to do. But you need to come all the way here, can you do this?”

“I’ll do my best.”

“I’m sure you will. Take care.”

 

Scott hangs up and feels Boyd and Erica watching him.

 

“We’re coming with you.” Boyd finally says.

“No, it’s fine, I don’t want you guys to get into more trouble because of me… I have a bike, I’m sure I can be there fast enough.”

“Then we’ll be beside you. I can steal a bike.” Erica retorts with a smug smile.

“Besides, it’s not like we had a precise plan.” Boyd adds with a shrug.

 

The ride to Minneapolis is harder than Scott expected. He thinks his wound is being infected because his sight sometimes gets blurry and he feels like he is burning. Boyd and Erica are always at his side, though, watching him carefully and stopping whenever they feel that he needs it. They are more than often right. They stop in a motel and Scott feels bad when they take only one room. Boyd says that it is to save money but he knows that they want to keep an eye on him.

 

“You could be doing lovers things and I’m just getting in the way.” Scott says to Erica when he lies down on one of the beds, slurring.

“You’re giving us too much credit. If you were intruding, you wouldn’t be with us.”

“I know you’re a nice person. Thank you.”

 

Erica smiles and gently nudges him on the shoulder.

 

“Boyd likes you. You risked your life to help his sister. I’m sure he respects you now.”

 

Scott smiles back, reassured, and falls asleep. He never has good dreams but this time, they are worse. He dreams about Stiles. His strangled sob echoing in his head, his bloody hands shaking and Scott remembers feeling so helpless. Whenever Stiles needed help, all he could do was to hug him tightly and promise that things would get better. They never did. One day, Stiles stopped smiling and stopped crying as well. Scott could just watch. Helpless.

 

“Stiles?!” Scott screams, the world blurry around him. “Stiles?!” He repeats again, his side hurting when he tries to get up too fast.

 

Two strong hands put him back on the pillows and another one comes on his forehead.

 

“He’s burning, Boyd. I need a wet towel.”

 

The pressure on his shoulders leaves but a hand – Erica’s? – holds his tightly.

 

“Stiles?” he whispers faintly, exhausted.

“He’s okay, he’s with Derek.”

 

Scott frowns. He knows that name. It is the same one as the werewolf who came asking about Stiles some few days ago. The one they helped after Peter went mad.

 

“Who’s Derek?”

“Stiles’ boyfriend. Or kind of, if they are still figuring it out.”

“He has a boyfriend?” Scott repeats with a bright smile as she wipes sweat on his cheeks. “That’s good. Is he happy, now?”

 

Scott can see Erica’s face now and she frowns, thoughtful.

 

“Derek’s hot.” She finally replies with a shrug.

 

Scott laughs and falls back into a more peaceful sleep. The next day, Scott feels better but not fully healed yet. Boyd helps him get on his bike but everything afterwards is easier. Riding requires concentration so he can’t really feel his pain, or at least he doesn’t let himself feel it. They have to stop another night but Scott doesn’t have nightmares this time, thankfully. He even feels cheerful and offers breakfast for everyone in the morning.

 

They arrive in Minneapolis six hours later and Scott calls Deaton immediately. He gives him the address of a building not far from the river and the three of them join him. Deaton greets them and makes him lie down on the table. Scott can’t explain why he suddenly loses track of time but it’s not hard to understand that it must be Deaton’s work. He hears voices and then nothing, not even pain. When he regains consciousness for good, his wounds are healed. Scott looks at his skin with awe.

 

“Now, Scott, I need you to do something for me.”

“Sure, anything.”

 

Deaton gives him a light smile and goes in the bedroom to retrieve a book, or what’s left of it.

 

“What is it?”

“Maybe the key for our survival. But I only have a small part of it, it was scattered a long time ago in order to protect it.”

“You want us to look for the rest?” Erica asks, sitting on the table next to Scott, Boyd at her side.

“I wouldn’t ask that from you, you've been through so much lately. No, I just want you to stay here and keep an eye on it while I go find the rest.”

“Do you have an idea of where is it? And what is its purpose, exactly?”

“My sister may have found another part but she needs my help. It’s an ancient spell book, nothing a werewolf could use. An emissary, on the other hand, could probably change the situation with it.”

 

Scott nods and takes prudently the fragile pages of the book in his hands.

 

“So, if we lose it...” Scott says.

“We lose hope.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thanks for reading! I am going back to university and I have a lot of things to organize and stuff so, to give me enough time to write and correct, I will now post my chapters every two weeks. I am very sorry for this! Hopefully, I'll go back to one chapter per week soon!


	7. Runner

Finding a place to stay for the night isn’t as easy as Stiles thought it would be. Even in the middle of nowhere, people have heard about the revolution started by Peter and some are taking sides. It’s not always safe for a Human, even less for an Emissary. According to Derek, he can’t smell that he is one, though, so he can pass for someone normal. But, when even being normal is too much, they keep driving. Stiles also finds out that Derek is probably more in love with his Camaro than with him. Okay, it’s not like they already exchanged big words and they are still at the “I think I really like you” phase of their relationships. Nevertheless, Stiles thinks he deserves to be treated the same way Derek literally _pampers_ his car.

 

“I can drive you know.” Stiles says for probably the tenth time ever since they started that road trip thing.

“No you can’t, you have amnesia.”

“And yet I can read, I can write, I can talk and, oh my God, I can drive too!”

“Then read.”

“I think you’re missing the point.”

“You are not driving, Stiles.”

“You are impossible! I can see stars, Derek, stars! The only time we stopped was to refuel and pee! We are even eating while driving!”

“Oh do you want me to stop on the side of the road so we could eat and you get a sunstroke?”

“First of all, right now it’s night. Then, let me remind you that you did stop to fuck me not so long ago and I’m pretty sure it requires more energy than sitting and eating. Besides, there was a risk of sunstroke back then.”

“It was one time! And that wasn’t why I stopped, you were being annoying. Like you currently are.”

“I just think you should rest. So you either let me drive or you stop for a while.”

“We’re not stopping here and you are not driving.”

“I don’t know why I even like you, you’re the most stubborn person I ever met. And don’t give me the amnesia card.”

“You like me because I care about you and always make you feel important. Your words, not mine.”

“Well, right now, I truly think you care about Camaro – because we might as well refer to her as a person at this point – more than you care about me.”

“Is this really what this is all about? You’re jealous of a car?”

“No, I am not. Maybe a little. But this is not why I am being annoying, it’s because you should rest. You can even cuddle with Camaro while doing so, I allow you to.”

 

Derek snorts and parks the car on the side of the road.

 

“Happy?”

“Ecstatic.” Stiles deadpans. “You’re just stopping like this? Seriously, Derek?”

“Yes. Go outside, look at the stars, ask me their names when we will be lying over the hood of _Camaro_.”

“You are making fun of me right now, aren’t you?”

“You will never know. Come on.”

 

Stiles rolls his eyes and gets out of the car to walk alongside Derek, looking around him.

 

“So where are we?”

“In California.”

“Come on.” Stiles smiles, nudging his shoulder. “For real, I’m sure you know.”

“We are more or less in the Yosemite National Park.”

“So that’s what all that nature around us was about!”

“I figured you’d be tired of always seeing the same landscape.” Derek shrugs. “Besides, I don’t think you travelled much in your life.”

“Did you, with your family?”

“Yes. We even came around here, once. Weres like to take trips in the nature where we can turn and let our animal part be free.”

“Are you making fun of me again?”

 

Derek leans against the car and shrugs. Stiles narrows his eyes at him until Derek cracks a little smile.

 

“You’re so gullible, I’m sorry.”

“I am not! I just don’t know much about you and I trust you blindly, that’s all.”

“That’s right, I forgot. Can we go back to driving now?”

“You and your addiction… Fine! But where are we going?”

“Sacramento.”

“Wait, isn’t it like the most important city in the state?”

“I see you used the Internet efficiently. We need to know how things are going in other big cities. Your friends will probably need that information if they want to win.”

“But you’re an ally too, now!”

“Not really, I’m only on your side.”

 

Stiles gapes at him and comes closer.

 

“Are you saying this to make me swoon?” Stiles asks, hands going up Derek’s chest.

“And look at that, it’s working.”

“Fuck you, Hale.”

 

Derek’s smiling lips softly meet his and Stiles sighs contentedly as he open his mouth for him. They haven’t had sex ever since what they now call the car incident but they tried kissing without it leading to anything. Stiles must admit it is his favorite part of their physical relationship. Of course he likes having sex with Derek but sex is still sex, and it doesn’t feel like a way to get closer to someone for him, not after what he had to do all his life at either Peter’s or Talia’s. But Derek’s lips on his, his hands on him, fingers stroking his jaw and cheeks… That is theirs. Derek is the only person kissing him and it’s more than foreplay. It’s probably why he likes it so much. It’s just a mark of affection, he doesn’t need to get on his knees afterwards. Even for Derek, it’s not something he likes to do.

 

“Will Sacramento be safe?”

“I don’t think so. That’s why we’ll stay in a motel and I’ll go there alone.”

“You aren’t going to…”

“Stiles. You’ll be safe and I will be too.”

“You just said…”

“Sacramento will not be safe for _you_ , but if I play it well, I can go in and out unnoticed.”

“Please, haven’t you seen yourself? Everyone notices you.”

“I’m officially taken, now, you can stop being jealous.”

“That’s the thing, I wasn’t jealous before because you weren’t mine. But now you are. And I don’t want us to not be us anymore.”

“Keep that for the day I break up with you.”

“You break up with me, I break Camaro, are we clear?”

 

Derek pecks him and just nods. They both go back in the car and return on the road. Derek says they will be there in less than four hours so Stiles decides to stay awake. He also doesn’t like to sleep while Derek is driving, for some odd reason, staying awake makes him feel solidary or something. He does fall asleep right away on the motel’s bed when they enter the room though. He can feel Derek kissing him on the temple before the door closes and then nothing. Utter darkness until rays of light illuminates his face. He opens his eyes to see the half-opened blinds letting the day in. Stiles looks around and frowns.

 

Something is not right, he should be in school at this hour. Stiles gets up in silence and tiptoes towards his parents’ room. His hands suddenly go to his mouth to contain his scream. Blood. There’s blood on the floor, a long red trail going to their room. His father told him that it was possible, that Weres could find them, even in a quiet town like Beacon Hills. Swallowing, the boy slowly opens the door just to see the werewolf slash his mother’s throat, her scream drowned under a gargle, her blood pouring out of her mouth. But her eyes, her eyes are pleading him, begging him to run away. It’s probably the last thing she thinks before she falls on the ground at Stiles’ feet.

 

The sound of the gunshot behind him echoes and Stiles wakes up screaming. Someone is holding him, hushing him and giving him soothing caresses. He hiccups, his breath coming out ragged. He closes his eyes, letting the quiet whispers against his ear calm him.

 

“What happened?” Derek asks, voice low.

“A dream… or a memory? My mom… there was blood… everywhere…”

“Did you see who killed her?”

 

Stiles shakes his head.

 

“What time is it?”

“Barely past midnight.”

“Did you go to Sacramento?”

“I will later today. But I can stay with you, if you want—”

“No” Stiles cuts, looking up. “I’ll be fine. You need to go there before things get worse.”

 

Derek nods and presses a kiss on his forehead. Stiles takes a long time to calm himself but, when he does, he sleeps peacefully this time. When he wakes up without screaming or panic, Derek isn’t here but there’s a note of the bedside table saying that he is in Sacramento. Stiles yawns and goes to take a shower, feeling sweaty after his troubled night. At least, it was short. A part of him wants to remember what happens next, to know if his father was the one behind him and if the Were was killed. The only thing telling him that, yes, the Were is dead is the fact that it doesn’t worry him when it probably should. But what if remembering what happens next would be seeing the same thing over and over again, his mother dying countless times before his eyes. He needs to block it. Prevent it from happening again.

 

The door opens abruptly opens on a wary Derek when he gets out of the bathroom. The werewolf right away goes towards their bags and packs the few things that were out of them.

 

“Get dressed, we need to go. Now”

“Why? What’s going on?”

“I’ll explain to you on the road.”

 

Stiles fumbles with his clothes as Derek goes inside the car and he quickly follows him. Derek immediately starts the car and goes fast, as if he’s trying to escape something. And he probably is, Stiles realizes.

 

“Can you explain me now?”

“They are killing Alphas. I knew something like this would happen.”

“What do you mean?”

“I wanted to know why Peter exactly killed my mother. There had to be more to it than just a family quarrel.”

“Not just for power? To keep it in the family?”

“Not just that, no. It was a warning. Just to let us see a glimpse of what was going to happen.”

“Okay what is going on?”

“I told you, they are killing Alphas. Those who don’t approve of Peter’s plan are killed by Betas who steal their powers because they think they deserve it more.”

“Like Peter did with your mother. So she was just the first. But we’re safe, right? You’re a beta.”

“But you’re an emissary. If Alphas are being killed you aren’t safe at all around here. They said that San Francisco was burning, Alphas are found dead in the streets. I let you guess if things are easier for emissaries or not… They are just starting in Sacramento, you’ll see by yourself when we cross it.”

 

Stiles sinks in his seat and looks through his window. It doesn’t take long for him to understand what Derek is talking about. People are screaming already in some streets and Stiles witnesses an Alpha man being torn apart in an alley. Paradoxically, in other parts of the city, it’s calm and people are living their lives peacefully, not aware of the poison slowly devouring the streets behind them. Stiles closes his eyes, feeling sick. None of them deserves that, to be killed because of a mad man they don’t even know.

 

“Where do we go now?”

“North.”

 

***

 

They stop after being two hours on the road and Derek hands him a phone.

 

“Here, that’s yours.”

“What? It was the end of the world and you took me a _phone_?”

“You’re going to need it.”

“How are you even real?”

 

Derek rolls his eyes.

 

“Stiles, I can protect you but I can’t do anything to make you stronger. Jennifer can.”

 

Stiles looks down on his phone. Derek’s right, he needs to learn how to use his powers and for that, he needs Jennifer. He could probably ask Lydia’s help as well but he knows now that they aren’t in the same category. Unfortunately. So he thanks Derek and calls Jennifer when they stop in an abandoned house. Why exactly, Stiles doesn’t know but Derek is driving so Derek decides. And he doesn’t even want to know how Derek found an abandoned house.

 

She isn’t even surprised to hear him and they talk for hours about ogham’s alphabet and Celtic culture. Stiles can’t explain why he feels attracted to the druids but he figures that it probably means that he is one as well. Jennifer seems to think that he’s special because of his affinity with lightning but he doesn’t get what’s so special about it.

 

He trains during the first half of the week with plants, trying to understand how to use them as a weapon or a way to defend himself. He doesn’t see Derek much while he trains but he can understand why. He probably needs some time alone and to really start grieving his mother. Stiles almost envy him and feels bad for doing so. He doesn’t know if he should grieve and for who. For his mother even though he only remembers her death? For his lost friends killed by Peter? Maybe getting stronger to kill him is the solution, his way to overcome it. That’s what he likes to think as he figures out how to heal himself from little cuts. Derek doesn’t like when he tries his powers on himself. Another reason for him to stay away while he trains, Stiles guesses. They get Cora’s call on Wednesday while Derek explains him again why it’s stupid to cut himself to try out his healing abilities just because he read it in a book. Derek answers angry, going outside in the vast garden that finishes where the woods start. Stiles watches him go and puts the knife away. He has mastered it already anyway.

 

“I’m training to control my lightning starting tomorrow.” Stiles says, kissing Derek’s cheek when they’re in bed. “No more tests on myself.”

“Good.” He grumbles, closing his eyes.

 

And that’s what Stiles does right away. He already knows how it works but he’s afraid of it, fears that it’s going to somehow hurt people around him if he can’t control it correctly. When he explains it to Derek, he looks at him thoughtfully before going outside to call. Curious, Stiles joins him and Derek gives him the phone.

 

“It’s Kira.”

 

Stiles frowns, confused, but answers. It turns out that Kira is actually the perfect person to talk to. She’s a Kitsune and he learns that her main powers are with electricity. So he goes back to training, occasionally calling her for advice. He is probably training too hard but he feels like he has too many years to catch up on. Derek doesn’t stop him anyway and he would if it was too dangerous for him. Actually, Derek even pushes him to do his best and gives him ideas.

 

“Do you know how to find me?” Derek asks when Stiles is done training on a tree, trying to hurt it without burning it.

“What do you mean?”

“Jennifer didn’t tell you? I can distinguish Weres, Humans and Emissaries but so can you.”

“Right, she told me about it. Any idea of how to train me to do this?”

“Hide and seek.” Derek answers with a smug smile, giving him a piece of cloth. “Put this on your eyes and try to find me in the woods.”

“Is it safe?”

“Knowing you and your incredible stealth, I don’t think so. Try to avoid the trees.”

“Fuck you, Derek, I’ll find you in less than five minutes.” Stiles claims, putting the cloth on. “The game is on, bitch.”

 

Derek laughs and Stiles can hear him walking away. Then he hears nothing anymore. It is terrifying, to be alone in the woods without being able to see but he knows Derek is here. He is safe. And he is not going to hit a tree. He will not. Now, how can he see Derek with something else than his eyes? A feeling, maybe? An aura? He closes his eyes under the cloth and tries to concentrate on Derek. He takes him time before he can feel him, or at least he thinks he does. It’s just something faint, pulling him. Stiles takes a deep breath, hands held in front of him – to avoid hitting trees, but he won’t admit it – and he starts walking. He tries to catch it, that weak light, and to follow it in the woods. Sometimes the light is brighter but other times it is fading. That means Derek is moving.

 

“If you move, that’s cheating!” he scolds with a smile when the light stays still and he doesn’t need to see Derek to know he’s amused right now.

 

Biting his lip, Stiles moves again towards Derek. He finds him some few minutes later. He knows it because the light now has the shape of a wolf. Stiles hands meet the fabric of Derek’s t-shirt and he smiles again.

 

“Gotcha.”

“Congratulations.” Derek whispers, pulling him closer to kiss him.

 

What they do afterwards in the woods is nobody’s business. But if Stiles had a list, he would have crossed blindfolded sex from it.

 

They leave the house at the end of the week because Derek says it is not safe to stay for too long at the same place. Weres could spot their scents too easily if they did. Stiles is a bit sad to be moving again, even though he understands why it is important.

 

“We’re stopping in Portland for the night. Jennifer says it’s safe.”

“How come?”

“The Alphas there prevented Peter’s revolution, or however he calls it, so it’s a place where the Resistance can stay and count allies. Apparently.”

“You don’t believe it.” Stiles understands.

“Not as long as I haven’t seen it with my own eyes. You can make people believe anything with rumors.”

“You’re so… distrustful.”

“I trust you, it should be enough.”

“It is. Where will we stay in Portland?”

“A hotel, for a change.”

 

Stiles nods and looks at the landscape. He knows why he has issues trusting others but he doesn’t know why Derek has such a hard time trusting others. On the other hand, he can admit that he’s proud to be in the closed circle of people Derek cares about enough to also trust them.

 

Derek immediately books a room in a fancy hotel when they arrive in Portland, after making sure that it was safe and buying powders that Stiles will be able to use later. Stiles looks around him in awe before feeling uneasy.

 

“Wait. Do people come here to…”

“It’s not a whorehouse, Stiles.” Derek cuts, putting their bags next to the bed. “People come here to sleep but sometimes they can come here to have sex, yes.”

“But there’s consent, right?”

 

Derek nods and Stiles goes back to looking around him, from the soft sheets to the beautiful view of the city in front of them.

 

“We need to do the do here.”

“Why exactly?” Derek sighs, raising an eyebrow.

“Because people have sex with consent when they come here! It’s awesome!”

“Stiles… We always have sex with consent. Besides, do you even _want_ to do it.”

“I don’t know but—“

“Stiles. How about you just let things happen?”

“Like in the woods last time?”

“For example. You don’t need to force yourself, okay? If I want to, I’ll let you know and if you want to… well I’ll smell it on you but you can tell me.”

“That’s unfair. And normal couples have sex often, they always want each other. I read it.”

“Normal doesn’t really apply to us and please, stop reading those books.”

 

Derek then goes in the bathroom and Stiles follows him, still confused. He wishes he could remember how it is, to be dating someone. Even though he knows there’s a high possibility that Derek is his first boyfriend.

 

“Think you could educate me on dating rules and stuff?” Stiles asks when they are in the bathtub, his back against Derek’s torso.

“My first girlfriend died and the other two tried to kill me. I don’t know what you expect from me here. Stay alive and don’t kill me?”

“I can do that.” Stiles says. “Wanna talk about your murderous girlfriends?”

“Not really.”

“Okay then… I need a rule for sex. When does it happen and how does it happen?”

“Stiles, we’re both naked in a bath. Do you want to have sex right now?”

“Not really.”

“Then it’s not happening, it’s that simple. Stop torturing yourself about this.”

 

Stiles nods but turns around to kiss him. It’s soft, slow and stops shortly after it started. Stiles starts to understand what Derek means. But it’s still weird. Objectively, Derek is the hottest person he ever met so why isn’t he aroused right now when he is between his legs and can feel his… everything against him? It’s confusing. It doesn’t make sense to him.

 

They get in bed right after their bath and, while Derek lies down to sleep, Stiles orders his purchases of the day and picks a book from his bag. When Derek found out he took some of Erica’s books with him a while ago, he rolled his eyes so hard Stiles thought he would never see their color again. He goes back on the bed and slips his legs under the covers. Derek sighs next to him.

 

“Are you doing what I think you’re doing?” he mumbles.

“If it’s reading the end of Twilight, then yes.”

“Jesus.” Derek almost complains, voice muffled by the pillow.

“Come on, it’s beautiful. Jacob just found out that Edward is a vampire.”

“I don’t care.”

“He says that he doesn’t care either, because he loves him. The power of true love helps them to overcome their differences and love each other.”

“Stiles, I will kill you.”

“You just don’t know how to appreciate that masterpiece.” Stiles teases but goes back to reading in silence.

 

Derek turns towards him when Stiles is almost done and stares at him, though Stiles pretends that he doesn’t see him.

 

“What’s happening now?” Derek finally asks.

“They killed the bad vampires with the help of Jacob’s pack so now their families are friends. They all are on the beach and Jacob and Edward just decided to go further to talk and watch the sunset together.”

 

Derek rolls his eyes but comes closer to read over his shoulder.

 

“Shouldn’t the sun have set by now?”

“Derek, how would Edward sparkle faintly, making Jacob love him even more without the sun?”

“Jesus.” Derek repeats, going back to sleep for good this time.

 

They end up staying in the room for the whole week, with Stiles enjoying his temporary freedom and safety by occasionally going back in shops to buy clothes, (forbidden) books and herbs while Derek stays in the room. They only go back on the road to Seattle on Sunday.

 

***

 

[Isaac]

 

Isaac can’t stop playing with his scarf. It’s stupid, he knows it. Stressing about all this won’t make the situation easier. Braeden rolls her eyes next to him and sits on the bed.

 

“How about you take out that stupid scarf?”

“We have five werewolves following us, Brae, maybe they will attack us at any moment.”

“And your scarf will save your life?”

“No, but I’m human and it’s night! I don’t want to freeze to death.”

“Right. Because cold is what you should worry about when werewolves are hunting you down.”

“Remember Napoleon in Russia.” Isaac snaps back.

“Yeah, I’m sure a scarf would have helped him.”

“Admit it, you just want to undress me.”

“You’re finally getting it.” Braeden sighs, with a teasing smile.

 

So, maybe Isaac accepts to undress and get rid of his scarf for one long and sweaty hour. They lie in bed side by side afterwards, looking at the ceiling without talking for a while before Isaac sighs.

 

“I guess we should go, now.”

“Let’s stay another hour. I haven’t enjoyed a good bed in days.” Braeden yawns, curling up on his chest.

“You’re going to enjoy a good death too, soon.”

“Put your scarf on, it’ll protect us.”

“This isn’t funny. I am not laughing right now.”

“You should. And I can feel them. They stopped too to rest.”

“Can they feel us too?”

“Do you really want the answer?”

“Probably not.” Isaac admits, closing his eyes.

 

Isaac wishes things were always that simple. Easy banter, sex and curling up together. He knows it is not that easy and it never will be, but it doesn’t stop him from wanting it anyway. Scott always told him that he deserved better and Isaac started to believe him one day. He used to think that being a prostitute was his fault; that everything was happening to him because he was not a good person. His dad told him how much of a failure he was every day and he started to believe it. Until Scott. And it made Stiles laugh, that odd, tired and fake laugh he sometimes had. He told him to get over his crush on their friend and to start realizing that everyone around him was into him.

 

As usual, Stiles was right. So he tried to have fun, as well as someone like them could. Then, one day, when he got into yet another argument with one of Peter’s werewolf, that girl came to save him as if she was forced to. She gave him a smirk while they were taking her to be punished.

 

“You owe me, pretty boy.” She had said.

 

They started dating the day after. Not that Braeden is easy or the romantic kind, but she sees things practically. If she is interested in someone, she is not going to hesitate; she tells right away how she feels and, if she gets a negative answer, she moves on.

 

“Remember when you saved my life?” he asks, voice low.

“Might wanna be more precise.” She snorts.

“Come on, you saved my life only twice.”

“It’s a matter of perception. The way I see it, I’m saving your life every day.”

“But that’s because you love me.”

“Don’t push your luck, Lahey. An accident can happen anytime.”

“It’s not an accident if you warn me about it.”

“Maybe I just have mad divination powers that I kept hidden from you all this time.”

 

Isaac rolls his eyes but smiles. He opens his mouth to retort something when Braeden suddenly gets up.

 

“We need to go.”

“You felt anything?”

“Yeah. They are close enough that I can tell they’re five.”

 

Isaac swears and starts dressing up, him and Braeden throwing each other’s’ clothes.

 

“Where do we go?” Isaac asks when they reach Braeden’s bike.

“Ever heard of Centralia?”

“No, should I have?”

“Yeah, it’s a town where a huge accident happened and fire is still burning behind it. Emissaries think it’s a demon’s work.”

“And that’s where we’re going?” Isaac almost squeals. “Why on earth would we do that?”

“I’m just kidding, that Centralia is in Pennsylvania.”

“I hate you.”

“It was worth it.” Braeden jokes, putting on her helmet.

 

They hit the road right away without looking back. They stopped looking back weeks ago, when they had to leave Los Angeles with werewolves behind them. Isaac can’t believe that it’s been already a month, a month of hiding and running. It feels useless. They met the werewolves already twice but both times, Braeden managed to kill them. This time, they know it will be different, it’s not just anyone after them. It’s Deucalion, the one they call the demon wolf. Isaac remembers having him as a client and it isn’t part of his best memories, quite the opposite. But he doesn’t have many good memories to begin with. He isn’t like the others, he knows it. His parents didn’t die tragically to save him, he didn’t have a happy family life before the werewolf came and ruined everything. No, he was actually relieved when his parents sold him to Peter. It’s easier to hate strangers than your own blood.

 

When they arrive in Centralia, the town is empty. Isaac isn’t surprised, it’s not the first time they encounter a town like this, where most inhabitants chose to run away. It’s what they did too, after all. What they keep doing. Isaac looks around, trying to eventually spot someone but Braeden doesn’t stop or even slow down. As if she is looking for something. And she probably is, Isaac realizes. She wanted to come here, in this town. She must have had a reason. When she stops, it’s in the middle of the road. Isaac frowns, taking off his helmet.

 

“What’s going on?”

“I found it.” She answers with a shrug, looking around. “The energy is strong around here.”

“What do you mean? Is there like an artefact you can use nearby?”

“Oh, you’re going to like this.”

 

Isaac stares at her and her grin.

 

“Don’t tell me it involves scary stuff.”

“Then I won’t.” she teases with a wink. “Come on we still have some few hours, I need to prepare for this.”

“I am not going to ask what “this” is. What do you need?”

“Candles. I already have a chalk.”

“Alright.” Isaac nods before leaving.

 

He can see houses ahead and well, if people left, certainly they won’t mind if he breaks in for candles, right? He runs towards them and enters the first house he meets. He might not have a supernatural strength, but he learnt a long time ago how to pick the lock of his own room to go outside Peter’s house and have fun in clubs with Stiles. Scott usually preferred to go see Allison. Isaac and Stiles used to make fun of them but some few months later, after Stiles disappeared, Isaac ended up doing the same thing with Braeden so it’s not like he can judge. That goes on the list of things he won’t tell Stiles. Like ever. Isaac sighs and finds a plastic bag in the kitchen before searching the house for candles. It’s not hard, really. People left in a hurry and, of course, candles are not the kind of things necessary to survive against a werewolf. He finds at least two in the living room and another one upstairs in one of the bedrooms.  Since he doesn’t know how many Braeden needs, he figures that he can check the house next-door as well once he’s done here.

 

He takes him less than an hour to check the houses in the neighborhood. Even though he’s not as strong as Braeden, he worries anyway when he gets too far from her. He is also aware that they have more chances at survival together than on their own. Especially him.

When he comes back, Braeden has already written several weird looking signs on the road and seems deeply lost in some kind of spell. She explained to him once that she was not born with powers, but after her brother was turned into a werewolf, she started to look into spell books to learn how to protect herself and help Boyd. So now she’s a bit like a witch, a bit like a druid. Isaac finds it fitting: she only takes what she wants and is her own kind of emissary. He puts the bag of candles next to her and goes to their bike. He only takes two guns from their supplies, he trusts Braeden’s spell enough and they should save some ammo. Even if they make it out alive, the hunt will never end. Besides, none of them is strong enough to kill Deucalion. Isaac watches the street ahead and waits while Braeden keeps doing her spell, placing the candles and sometimes whispering Latin words. Or something. It’s not that he isn’t smart, but he is glad that he never had to learn ancient languages. Maybe he should, though, to be able to do some spells as well one day. So far, his body was his only weapon and it was more than enough. It feels like it was already in another lifetime…

 

“Okay, I’m ready.” Braeden sighs, blinking. “Don’t freak out.”

“No promises.”

 

It doesn’t take long until they hear the first growl. Isaac winces a bit but Braeden stays still, looking ahead with her fists clenched. Then one of them appears at the end of the street, running fast towards them and quickly followed by two other werewolves. Isaac can’t be sure from here, but Deucalion doesn’t seem to be with them.

 

“Didn’t you say five?” Isaac whispers.

“Yes.” Braeden nods without looking at him. “But look at the first one, he’s unusual.”

 

Isaac squints and can now realize how big the first werewolf is, almost monster-like even without seeing his facial features. That enough makes him raise his gun. He won’t fire yet, not unless Braeden says so. It wasn’t easy at first, but they know how to work together, now. And, more precisely, how to not ruin each other’s plans. So he keeps waiting for Braeden’s move, even if he would like for it to happen now. But she doesn’t move and the werewolves keeps getting closer with Deucalion nowhere in sight yet. Isaac is starting to despair when the candles suddenly light up and… he almost freaks out when bleeding and armed men with translucent greyish bodies invade the street.

 

“What the f—“

“Uhm, yeah, maybe I should have told you that there has been a massacre once around here and some people died, obviously.”

“What the h—“

“And those are their angry ghosts.” Braeden adds with a shrug. “Surprise?”

“Seriously? Ghosts?” Isaac hisses, looking pale when one of them turns to look at him.

 

The ghost doesn’t stay long on him though, his attention going back to the werewolves already clashing with other _men_. He doesn’t understand how she did that, but the ghosts are fighting for them with a strength he never thought ghosts could have. Weirdly, they can wound the Weres, but they can’t be wounded in return; the claws only go through their bodies instead. Isaac slowly lowers his gun.

 

“Your creepy stuff knowledge is scary, Braeden, just so you know.”

“But useful.”

 

Isaac notices that some few ghosts aren’t fighting, staying close to them without moving, apart from when one of them looked at him some few minutes ago. He doesn’t understand right away until it hits him: Deucalion. The werewolf has not made an appearance yet and Isaac starts thinking that he is only waiting for his enemies to get weaker so he can strike and kill them. Real classy. But the ghosts are relentless, even against that monstrous werewolf. Now that he is closer, Isaac can really see what Braeden meant by unusual. It is as if his body is hosting two bodies at once and, well, it probably is, isn’t it? Isaac swallows. They won’t be able to kill him – _them_ – either.

 

As if to enhance his dark thoughts, Deucalion finally comes from behind them, skin black like coal and eyes glowing red. He’s faster, so much more faster than the others but Braeden is ready. She shoots him in the shoulder, slowing him enough for the remaining ghosts to stop and fight him.

 

“To the bike, quick!” Braeden shouts and Isaac retreats towards it.

 

He hops on, shivering when he hears the big werewolf’s frustrated growl behind him. A look above his shoulder tells him that at least one of the three is badly wounded. Braeden runs to him and climbs behind, her arms going around his waist.

 

“Come on, go!”

“Wait, there’s just…”

 

Isaac points his gun towards Deucalion and shoots several times. Braeden seems to understand his reasoning because she turns around to do the same on the combined werewolf. Where he aims doesn’t matter, a bullet isn’t enough to kill him. But they need time to put enough distance between them. Once Braeden is done, he finally starts the bike and leaves as fast as he can.

 

Isaac doesn’t know for how long he has been driving but Braeden is asleep against his back for a while now. This means that the spell that brought back the ghosts ended. It’s usually how the spells work: they need their creator’s energy so they stop once the witch or druid lose consciousness.  Hopefully, they are now only up against the monster Alpha and Deucalion. Great.

 

“We need help.” Braeden says after waking up, still resting against Isaac.

“You don’t have any more massacres lying around?” Isaac teases.

 

He knows that she’s right. Aside from the fact that they can’t trick Deucalion twice, they are just not strong enough to kill him. If it was only the other two Alphas, they could think of something. Once they finally stop on the side of the road, Braeden confirms that two of the Weres died before calling one of her friends in the Resistance to know who is around to help them.

 

“What kind of help do you need?” her friend, Malia, asks.

“We’re up against Deucalion and some Alphas who can become one, probably twins. What do you think?”

“That you’re fucked. I remember Cora saying that her brother was near Seattle with his cute boy-toy.”

“Boy-toy?” Isaac repeats.

“Yeah, something like Stiles or whatever. Anyway, I think that’s all we got, if you’re in, Cora can contact them.”

 

Braeden looks up to Isaac.

 

“What do you think?”

“I don’t want to bring Deucalion to Stiles.” Isaac sighs.

“But if he kills us, your friend and Cora’s brother will be alone against them, you know it’s a matter of time. We actually stand a chance against them if we team up.”

“I still don’t like it.”

“God, guys, decide something!” Malia whines over the phone. “People are dying here too, I’m actually busy right now!”

 

They keep looking at each other until Isaac gives up and reluctantly nods. Braeden reaches to hold his hand.

 

“Tell Cora to contact them.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry for the delay! Also, just a note to say that I am updating my profile to tell you when my chapters will be posted.


	8. Drowning

It has been surprising for both of them when Malia said she wanted to see her family. First, because Malia is not really the caring kind and, second, they thought until now that she was an orphan. Even Cora used to think so, seeing how Malia avoided the subject. Therefore, the girls followed her in Louisiana. Someone had to go there anyway and Cora was a bit curious about what the wolves looked like there. On the other hand, she was not curious at all about water when they started the trip and yet, here it is, everywhere around them. Along with green, an awful lot of green. Cora never thought she could hate green before. “It’s just a color.” she keeps telling herself.

 

“We just passed Raceland” Malia says, her voice tense. “We should be there in fifteen minutes or so.”

 

Cora nods and looks through the window. Kira fidgets a bit behind them before sighing loudly.

 

“Okay, I give up, I need to ask. What’s wrong, Malia? Why are you so worried about your family? You think they will be targeted by Peter?”

“Well… There’s that.” Malia answers after a while. “But… they’re not… like us. My family, they are humans, mere humans. They are the reason why I joined the Resistance so… yeah, I think Peter might want them dead, along with the other Weres around here. It’s not really a Human friendly community.”

 

They keep driving in silence again, apart from Cora complaining when they see even more water in Des Allemands, watching Malia taking more and more little roads until she finally slows down.

 

“Are we arrived?” Kira asks.

“Yeah but… it’s weird, it’s like the place’s been abandoned… There are cars parked around here usually.”

“Think people left?”

“Most of our neighbors are wolves or coyotes, it doesn’t make sense. Like I said, they would join Peter’s side…”

 

Malia’s house is the last one on the lane they have taken. It is a long white house with a porch whose paint has faded in front of a banal yard where there is only – shades of green – grass. Malia stops the car in the “garden” and walks out of the car. Kira looks up towards Cora. They never saw her so cautious before.

 

“What do you think?” Kira whispers.

“Malia has good instincts, if she feels something is wrong, it probably is.”

 

Kira gulps and steps out of the car as well, Cora following quickly after her. It doesn’t take long for her to smell it, the blood coming from the house. Somebody died here. Malia looks back towards them only for a second before going inside. The smell is unbearable and becomes worse when they get closer to the bedroom. Kira turns around when they enter the room and Cora is tempted to do the same. On the bed, their intestines spread out around them, Malia’s parents are dead, eyes wide open as if they were surprised. That look seems to upset Malia because she suddenly goes to close their eyes.

 

“We should clean.” She says, turning around to look at them. “Bury them.”

“We’ll do the cleaning.” Cora nods. “What about your sister?”

“I’ll check the other rooms, but I can’t smell her and, well, the scent of blood and decay doesn’t help.”

 

On that, she leaves the room.

 

“I hope her sister is alive.” Kira whispers with an edge to her voice. “That’s so awful.”

“Have any idea who would do that? Were?”

“What else?” Kira snorts while going to check the wounds anyway. “Oh my god, Cora, I hate you, why do I have to do this?”

“For love and friendship?” Cora suggests, leaving her to look for cleaning products and sheets in the living room.

 

It doesn’t take her long; apparently, the Tate family only had… has the bare minimum. Or maybe they planned to leave before whoever came to kill them. Cora can’t tell which possibility is worse: they were doomed or they could have had survived?

 

“Hey, Cora. When people die with surprised looks, doesn’t that mean they knew the killer?”

“Or maybe it was Santa Claus, which would be very surprising.” Cora retorts, throwing a dishcloth at Kira.

“Very funny. So what? I clean the room, you deal with… them?”

“You cannot handle corpses, can you?”

“I can barely deal with blood.” She winces.

 

Cora rolls her eyes and starts “packing” Malia’s parents into the two sheets she found earlier. The falling intestines part is a bit difficult and almost has Kira throwing up, but she finally manages it though her forearms are now painted red. When Malia finally comes back, she is done and Kira has cleaned most of the blood. Without a word, she helps Cora carry the bodies outside.

 

“You want to bury them?”

“Yeah, burning them might attract troubles.”

“And your…”

“I don’t know.” Malia sighs and goes to find shovels. “How’s Kira?”

“She’ll handle it. How about you?”

“What? Your ex can handle it, but I can’t?”

“Don’t be a brat. It’s your family, not hers. I’m worrying about you right now.”

“I know. I’m sorry but it’s just… so stressful. I have no clue at all, I don’t know who killed my parents and took my sister. And even that is not sure, maybe she’s dead and her body was dumped in the water.”

“I don’t think so. It’s probably a trap for you, you know. You track your sister; they kill you both at once, end of the story.”

“What do you want me to do then? Nothing?”

“Please, you know that if it was me looking for Derek, I would already be in that trap.”

“Trap then?”

“Seems logical. I didn’t see any signs of struggle, your parents knew the killer, which probably means the killer knows who you are too.”

“It could be a neighbor, someone from here.”

“Probably. What will you do?”

“I’m going to keep digging for now, then you know what I’ll do.”

 

Cora nods and they go back into silence, digging two large graves for Malia’s parents. More than one hour has passed when they are finally done, jackets forgotten on the porch and skin covered with dirt and blood. It takes them half an hour to put the bodies in the ground and recover them.

 

“Okay, I change my plans. I want to shower first.” Malia yawns. “We could ask Kira to tag along.” She adds with a wink.

“There must be logic to your behavior, Malia, but I am failing to see it right now.”

“I have no filter, you know that. Also, distraction sounds nice.”

“Then go take a shower, distract yourself.” Cora retorts, rolling her eyes. “We’re not having a threesome next to drying blood.”

“You’re no fun, and I need fun! That’s boring.”

“Malia, go, shower, now.”

“Ugh, fine.” She mutters, climbing the stairs to enter the house.

 

Cora stays outside for a bit, staring at the two fresh graves. It is stupid, but she feels jealous. She could not bury her mother, and she doesn’t know when and if she’ll be able to do it. She wasn’t as close to Talia than Laura was, but she was still her mother, her _mom_. Now Malia is an orphan as well but she doesn’t even have a face to hate, a reason to despise. She only has dirty bloody sheets to bury. Oh, when she’ll start grieving, it’ll be hard for her. Cora has Derek, even has Laura but Malia… she might the only one left in her family.

 

“You look terrible.”

 

Cora turns around to look at Kira.

 

“And yet, I am apparently attractive enough that I’ve been invited to a make out session.”

“I didn’t want to know… Wait, then why are you here?”

“Well… Not in the mood.”

“Understandable. How is she?”

“I don’t think she knows it herself. Found anything in the wounds earlier, by the way?”

“Nope. The Were probably fed on them but… I hate saying that theory out loud, because it’s really gross.” Kira shakes her head. “Anyway, the room is sort of decent now. And I left the windows open.”

“We should probably call Allison, tell her that Louisiana might be compromised as well.”

“Sure, call her. I’m going to call Stiles back; I missed him while I was cleaning.”

“So, Stiles is personally calling you, now?”

“Looks like it, they arrived in Portland safely but I guess you knew that already. Anyway, he still needs advices when it comes to using electricity wisely.”

“Kira…. Does Stiles talk to you about Derek?”

“Yeah, it happens. But I’m not his best friend and I’m pretty sure he has trust issues.”

“Who wouldn’t?”

“You’re only saying that because you’re the paranoid kind as well.” Kira teases. “Which brings us to: yes, Cora, I think he really likes Derek, don’t worry about this anymore.”

“Someone needs to worry about my brother; he keeps getting himself in trouble.”

 

Kira offers her an amused smile before taking out her phone. With a sigh, Cora goes to clean her hands before doing the same thing. Both of them are done with their phone calls when Malia comes back from the shower, letting Cora go take one as well.

 

However, when she comes back in the living room, Malia’s not here anymore.

 

“Where is she?”

“She decided to go alone. She said that… if her sister isn’t alive when she finds her… well, she’d just rather be alone for this.”

“Where is she?” Cora repeats, louder.

“Somewhere in the bayou, she thinks they must have taken her there… She wants us to find a place to buy food, there must be a small market around here or maybe in people’s houses, if they left…”

“You just let her go? In that state?”

“Yeah, I did. Malia’s not the kind who leaves you a choice. I stayed behind so you could know the situation. We can still follow her.”

“That’s… ugh, girls!”

 

Cora crosses her arms and sighs.

 

“Fine, let’s find food. There’s like a lot of water in the bayou anyway, right?”

“I thought you would fight more.”

“That would be wasting time. There’s nothing more I can do, that’s her choice, I get it. I don’t like it, but okay. Let’s go.”

 

Kira obviously looks relieved. That is also why Cora isn’t fighting, she knows Kira is a good person who always tries to do what is best for everyone. Unlike her and Malia. Or basically everyone else they know. Maybe not that werewolf Peter recently turned, Scott or whatever. That guy looked like a nice one.

 

“You drive, though, I’m tired.”

“Or lazy.” Kira says with a little smile, taking the car keys anyway.

 

Cora is maybe exaggerating, but it takes them _forever_ before they finally find a store still open or, at least, not empty. Even though, people wise, the store is empty.

 

“What happened in this town? Everyone’s missing…”

“Malia’s sister first… Maybe Peter mobilized them to a more populated area?” Cora suggests while looking through the store’s shelves for food. “We can go to New Orleans after this.”

“I’m not worried about New Orleans; it’s basically an Emissary HQ…”

“Good point… Hey, what’s this?”

 

Kira walks to her and see what Cora is showing. The shelves have been emptied and thrown on the ground to show a message on the wall. Kira’s eyes widened.

 

“It’s Japanese. It means: “I’m here”.”

 

***

 

Malia knows it’s not really a brilliant idea to go into the bayou alone. First, she could get lost, it’s easy around here. Second, she could die. But her sister is here, she can _feel_ it. Cora will understand. She couldn’t wait and do nothing but, most of all, she needs to be alone. Her parents… They were good people, they had never tried to hurt anyone and now… She has to find the person who killed them, she has to. And she needs to kill him or her. Malia can see how Cora is upset sometimes when she hears about Peter. She doesn’t think she’ll deal with that well, knowing that her parents’ killer is alive. And from her own family.

 

Malia suddenly lifts her head and stops the boat. She recognizes it. She knows that scent. She opens her mouth but closes it right away. No, she can’t scream. Who knows where the killer is. Besides, maybe she can retrieve her sister discreetly. If she screams her name… she might be killed, the killer would know she isn’t needed as bait anymore. She didn’t feel safe taking only a small boat but now, she knows it’s better, it doesn’t make too much noise. Hopefully, she can get closer without being noticed.

 

She can’t tell if there’s something in the water below, but she can’t worry about it now. Green and water, Cora would love this place. It takes her less than ten minutes to find a small cabin that barely looks stable. Malia attaches the boat to a tree nearby before going to the cabin. The door creaks when she enters but there’s no one waiting for her behind it. Weirdly, that doesn’t reassure her. It might mean that she’s now trapped inside and the killer can come at any moment. She shakes her head. She’ll see what to do or what to worry for if it happens, now, she must find her sister. It’s the only thing she needs to do ever since she arrived in Des Allemands. She’s not in the living room but she can see a bed upstairs. Maybe the killer treated her well? Therefore, it might have been a neighbor… She remembers that, even though some were not fond of their parents, they liked them, the sisters. Even before Malia became a Were. She climbs the stairs and, indeed, her sister is here on the bed, sound asleep. That’s weird, maybe she’s drugged… Malia sits next to her and checks her pulse. Nothing wrong here. With caution, Malia palpates her body to look for eventually broken bones but, from what she can see, she doesn’t even have bruises.

 

“That doesn’t make sense…” She whispers, frowning.

 

From what she remembers of her parents’ bedroom, they were killed at least a day ago. Does that mean she has been unconscious that whole time? Or is it hurt in a way she can’t see? Biting her lip, Malia takes out her phone to call the girls. Kira answers right away but Malia has difficulties hearing her.

 

“Malia? Where are you now?”

“I found my sis in a cabin. It’s a bit lost in the bayou so sorry if you can’t hear me well…”

“Okay, be careful. We think that the killer actually possessed someone and went in a killing spree. I don’t know though how he could figure out who to kidnap.”

“He? So we know who it is now?”

“Not really, but I can recognize him or his aura, he’s a fox like me.”

“Can we say for sure that he’s still alive?”

“Yeah… nogitsunes are… hard to kill. You can kill the host but the nogitsune can find another body right away.”

“What can it do exactly? Kira? Can you hear me?”

 

But the call is already disconnected. Malia swears between her teeth and goes outside, considering that her sister is safe for now. She tries to call again but it doesn’t work anymore. She got lucky. Malia is about to try one last time when she hears her name being called from inside the cabin. She rushes upstairs to find her sister awake and panicked. Her eyes widen when she sees her.

 

“Malia? It’s really you? Where are we? What’s happening?”

“Shhh, calm down…” Malia replies, sitting down next to her and taking her in her arms. “What’s the last thing you remember?”

“I—I was in my room and I heard some noise outside so… I went to the window… I think I saw something then everything went black… Or, I think that’s what happened… Oh, Malia, I had so strange dreams…”

“It’s okay, now, I’m here.”

“Where is here?”

 

Malia looks around and shrugs.

 

“I don’t really know. You were missing when I arrived so I tracked your scent.”

“I was kidnapped?” She understands quickly. “Mom and Dad must have been so worried! Are they here too?”

“They… I’m sorry, they… They were already dead when I arrived. The one who kidnapped you must have killed our parents too…”

 

Unlike Malia, her sister starts crying. Malia almost wants to cry as well but she can’t, they’re not safe yet. She needs to be strong for some few more hours, at least.

 

“I’m sorry but… I need to ask. Was there anyone acting weirdly around you lately?” Malia asks, cleaning her sister’s wet cheeks.

“Uhm… Maybe the neighbor? You know the one we used to make fun of because he was trying to flirt with mom by showing his abs.”

“Yeah, what about him?”

“Well, he stopped. Maybe a week ago… He was distant with everyone. Mom thought that he finally understood but… you think he got mad because Mom ignored him?”

“No… My friends think he was possessed.”

“Thank God… I mean, he was kind of a nice guy, I’m glad it’s not really him who did all that…”

“Same here. Come on, can you walk?”

“I don’t know…” she sniffs. “Let’s see.”

 

Malia helps her standing up on her shaky legs. It takes her two times before she can really walks down the stairs. Malia is about to open the door when she hears footsteps outside.

 

“Hide!” she whispers to her sister who runs clumsily towards the couch.

 

It’s not the best hiding place but the cabin doesn’t offer enough furniture for better ideas. Malia looks back to the door, her claws out and ready to fight. She knows that her neighbor is not really responsible, but it is the only way she can defend herself, especially since he’s a coyote as well. The door opens on him, who doesn’t look surprised to see her.

 

“Finally, you arrived.”

 

It’s weird. His voice is the one she remembers, his face is the same one from before and yet… there is _something_ about him, maybe in his eyes.

 

“What do you want?”

 

He just shrugs and brings his claws out as well. Malia has no other choice but to fight back. It takes her though an incredible amount of strength to bring – or better say throw – the coyote outside. She can’t let him hurt her sister, not now. She almost prays for Kira and Cora to arrive. Okay, it really was a stupid idea to come here alone. She realizes it when she happens to have more wounds than him, and deeper than his. In despair, she howls furiously… and someone howls back.

 

Cora. Cora’s here and so must be Kira as well. He turns back, apparently not worried. All of this is weird, it’s like he doesn’t even want to kill her, just wound her. Why? That’s when it hits her. _Nogitsune_. Japanese.

 

She’s not his target. Kira is.

 

“Kira! Don’t come here!” she shouts in vain, she knows it.

 

Kira is not the kind to leave people behind. Her shout owns her an amused smile and, yes, now she can see that something is indeed wrong.

 

“I see you understand, you’re not the one we wanted here. Well… sort of.”

“Why would you kill innocents just for that?”

 

Before he can even open his mouth to answer, something strikes him a shoulder, a little black star. Malia recognizes it as one of Kira’s weapons. She turns and here they are, both of them coming on a boat. Now, Malia feels somehow relieved. Hopefully, the three of them can do this, kill him.

 

“Where’s your sister?” Cora yells from the boat. “Go there, you’re wounded. We’re taking care of this!” she exclaims when Malia shows her the cabin.

 

For once, Malia is more than happy to oblige and runs to the house. Her sister’s heads pops up from behind the couch.

 

“Is it over?”

“No, but my friends are here to help me. Kira probably has the best weapons to deal with this.”

“I can wait here alone, you can help them if you want.”

“I need to heal first.” Malia admits, showing her some of her wounds. “You know I’ve never been a good fighter, more a messy one than anything…”

 

That makes her sister smile. Malia sits down on the ground next to her and waits, her hearing focused on what is happening on the other side of the wooden door. She can hear Cora fight, Kira’s katana slashing the air. Malia has always been a bit jealous of their relationship, how they can know what the other one is thinking and how they’re always in sync when they fight together. Even without seeing it, she can tell that’s how it is again right now. She understands, though, they dated for a while. Moreover, Kira is the kind of person you want to trust.

 

“He’s dead.” Cora says in a whisper.

“Already?” Malia asks, standing up anyway.

“Yeah, that’s weird; I thought it’ll be tougher.”

“Well… We’re coming then.”

 

Malia opens the door and sees right away the lifeless body of her former neighbor, floating in his own blood. She can tell that the deepest cuts were done by Kira’s sword. Kira who is holding something in her hand, her eyes closed and seemingly focused. Cora comes closer to them.

 

“Some kind of fly escaped from his body when we finally killed him. That’s how the nogitsune can go from a body to another, apparently. Kira’s destroying it for good but… I don’t know, she says it doesn’t feel like him.” Cora explains with a shrug.

 

Kira opens her eyes and sighs.

 

“It’s done, we can…” she starts, turning towards them and suddenly stopping. “Get away from her.”

“What?” Malia and Cora ask at the same time.

“It’s her. The nogitsune, I can see him around her. Get away!”

 

None of them has the time to react. Her sister’s thin arm comes up and pierces through Cora’s shoulder without any difficulty. Malia can only look, tetanized. She can hear Kira swear and coming toward them. She feels Kira’s hand pulling her arm. But she can’t. She can’t get away from her own sister. It’s not how it works.

 

Kira is in front of her, somehow she’s sitting against the house now. She’s holding her shoulders, trying to make her react and, suddenly, she’s not here anymore. Malia shakes her head and puts her hands on her face. What’s happening? She should get up, help Kira… Help Kira to kill her sister. God. Malia opens her eyes and stands up. Cora is unconscious on the ground, her shoulder bleeding. Malia looks up and sees Kira fighting against her sister near the water. She can tell that Kira is holding back, she doesn’t want to hurt her. She needs to do something. So she goes, running, to throw her sister violently into the water. Not her sister anymore, the nogitsune.

 

“What can we do?”

“Us? Nothing. We have to kill her.” Kira admits sadly. “The only other way would be to go and try to help her inside her mind but we need an Alpha for this and it’s not even sure that it would work. I can’t kill the fly once it’s out, but I can’t spare the host.”

“I see.”

“But we could try! Maybe we can contain her until we can join another Alpha.”

“Come on, Kira, we both know how hard it would be to find an Alpha on our side in time. We need to do it. I need to do it.”

“I—I’m helping you. I’m his target, so I’m not letting you do this alone.”

“Okay but… The fatal blow will be from me.”

“Deal.”

 

As if on cue, the nogitsune finally gets out of the water and attacks them right away. If Malia isn’t ready yet, Kira is. Her katana slashes through her… his skin. It’s not her sister anymore. It’s not her sister anymore. She just needs to believe it. The nogitsune easily dodges Kira’s over attacks so Malia comes on the others side to distract him. Her wounds aren’t fully healed yet and she can feel them reopening already but she needs to focus, she can’t let Kira alone in this fight. Besides, she deserves that fatal blow.

 

“Malia, step back!” Kira shouts.

 

Malia doesn’t stop to think about what Kira wants to do, she just moves. In time. Electricity appears from Kira’s fingers and seems to run on the ground till it reaches the nogitsune. Water and electricity. That should be lethal, right? It does surprise the nogitsune a bit who falls into the water and is shocked there again.

 

“Wait, give me your sword!”

 

Without a word, Kira gives it to her. Malia walks towards the nogitsune, his body shaking in the water. Both feet on each side of him, Malia tightens her grip on the katana. Half paralyzed, the nogitsune finds somehow a way to look up and smile.

 

“You’re… you’re really going to kill me? Your dear sister? I thought you came to save me…”

“Shut up!”

“She saw it, you know. She remembers when I used her own hands to kill your parents.”

“I said shut up.”

“Soon… She’ll remember killing her sister.”

 

Malia pierces the nogitsune with Kira’s sword, thrusting it into his chest. Blood pours out of his mouth and she can’t see it starting to spread slowly on the water. Kira comes next to her and put her hand on Malia’s. Somehow, Malia understands and take the katana out, giving it back. The nogitsune coughs more blood and with it, a firefly escapes from his mouth. Her sister’s mouth. Kira quickly catches it. Below them, Malia’s sister isn’t moving anymore.

 

Well, she can cry now.

 

***

 

Kira can still hear Malia’s devastated sobs, even though it’s been almost a week since it happened. The nogitsune. The three of them came back with her sister’s corpse, leaving the neighbor's there. Kira thought of going back to bury him as well, but she couldn’t bring herself to see the place where it happened again.

 

“Hey.” Cora says, joining Kira on the porch’s steps.

“She’s still there?”

“In their room, yeah. She talked though. She said she was ready to go back on the road.”

“Maybe we can wait another day.”

“That’s what I think too. Do you know why the nogitsune was after you?”

“I told you. I am a kitsune; it was just a game for him and the more the merrier. Nogitsunes loves chaos and what’s better than destroying families or friendships…”

“It’s insane. I never thought I’d see one in the United States…”

“I asked my Mom about this. I needed to know if it was just a wild nogitsune or an actual threat we needed to consider.”

“What did she say?”

“We’re okay. That nogitsune had a personal grudge against her and decided to target her daughter. He contacted Peter, not the other way around. The other foxes won’t take part in this fight, apparently and, if they do, I guess it won't be on this continent anyway.”

“So it’s really over. Peter isn’t going to send a nogitsune after my brother or Stiles.”

“No, it was only for me. Yay.”

“Hey, don’t feel bad okay? It’s not your fault if that nogitsune was an asshole.”

“I know but… I should have known, he left clues and I didn’t understand… Making us think the killer fed on their parents, was a neighbor… I never questioned what I saw.”

“It doesn’t change anything. In the end, we couldn’t save her anyway.”

“If I had been stronger…”

“Let’s not go there. I know it sucks, I feel the same way because I passed out and I couldn’t help you, guys but… Malia needs us now.”

 

Kira sighs but nods, going back inside with her. They leave at the end of the week. Kira can’t help but to ask Stiles where they are and Stiles texts her to tell her they’re still near Seattle. It is maybe stupid, but she asked him to keep her updated. She knows Cora worries but don’t want to say it, so she drops hints about Derek and Stiles well-being here and there to soothe her. She wishes she could do the same for Malia.

 

Malia appears to be okay, but both of them know that is not true. Nevertheless, they also respect her need to look strong. She’s the first one driving the car during the first day, Cora sound asleep in the back. Kira can’t sleep but also doesn’t know what to say. So they drive in an awkward silence until Malia can’t stand it anymore.

 

“I don’t blame you, Kira. You can’t talk to me, I won’t bite.”

“You say that now and then…”

 

Malia winces.

 

“Am I really that feral? Because I swear I am somehow civilized…”

“Somehow, huh? Come on, I’ll drive from here.”

 

With a smile, Malia nods and parks when she can. They’re still on the road when Cora’s phone rings. Since she doesn’t even move, Malia stretches to take it from her pocket.

 

“It’s Braeden.” She says before answering.

 

Apparently, Peter sent Deucalion after them but it’s becoming harder to lose him.

 

“That you’re fucked. I remember Cora saying that her brother was near Seattle with his cute boy-toy.” Malia replies. “Yeah, something like Stiles or whatever. Anyway, I think that’s all we got, if you’re in, Cora can contact them.”

 

Kira turns to look at Malia. Deucalion and Stiles in the same area? That sounds like a recipe for disaster.

 

“What do you think?” Malia whispers to her. “Maybe I shouldn’t have said anything about Derek and Stiles…”

“No, I think it’s okay. I mean, we can let people die just to protect others. That’s not how the Resistance works after all.”

“But Cora…”

“She’ll be fine. And Derek and Stiles will be fine too. Just believe it.”

“Yeah, well, thank God we have you because I have a hard time being optimistic…” Malia confesses. “God, guys, decide something! People are dying here too, I’m actually busy right now!”

 

Kira arches an eyebrow but Malia ignores her.

 

“I’m pretty sure you’re not busy.” Kira says when she hangs up.

“I still need to tell Cora that I set up her brother with possible murder.”

 

Kira and Malia look at each other.

 

“I’ll park the car.” Kira finally decides.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I finally wrote it! I think it took me longer than expected mostly because it wasn't with Stiles and Derek this time... Chapter 9 will be about Allison, Lydia and co, and we'll see the three girls again, then we'll go back to our (main) couple. I'll try to write chapter 9 faster than I did for chapter 8, then it'll be posted along with chapter 10.


	9. Front

“Okay, so… according to both Braeden and Deaton, the book you are looking for is in Centralia.” Allison states. “And it might be a haunted town.”

“Yeah, I heard Braeden laughing when she said it!” Lydia storms, throwing the road map on Danny.

“Why is it my fault? Also, I’m driving.”

“This is me helping you out, obviously.”

“Are you really? Throwing the map is helping me?”

“Duh. I can’t read it anyway. It’s the 21st century, why don’t you have a GPS?”

“Because it actually can be hacked and anyone can read a map when willing.”

“Can you guys please not fight in the car?” Allison implores. “And when we reach Jackson, can you also not fight over him?”

“I already told you that Jackson isn’t my type.”

“Jackson is everyone’s type.” Allison and Lydia both point out.

“Whatever. Is Centralia really haunted?” Allison asks.

 

Danny shrugs.

 

“What I know is that it inspired a horror video game. What I also know is that there is a fire still burning under the town after a weird accident.”

“Fire still burning after a weird accident? Okay, are demons still a thing?”

“I think Peter is enough.”

 

The three of them nod in silence. Driving though the United States, they saw the damage after Peter’s uprising. They knew it would be violent, but they never expected it to happen so quickly. Peter has apparently more allies than they planned. Their thoughts are interrupted by Lydia’s phone ringing.

 

“Who is it?”

“Jackson. He is telling us to meet him… No, no way.”

“What, is he in trouble?” Allison asks, coming closer to look at her phone. “Oh, wow.”

“Nope, no troubles, unless you count his impressive ego. He’s in _Jacksonville_.”

“Why am I not surprised?” Danny sighs, taking the map on one hand and the wheel on the other. “Okay, at least it’s close. We should be there in less than an hour.”

“Didn’t we cross a city called Jackson not so long ago? Why didn’t he go there?”

“Not fancy enough, Allison, you know how he is.”

“Please, if there was a Lydiaville somewhere, you would go there too.” Danny snorts.

“Oh my God, I said no fighting. I’m your leader, and the leader is saying no fighting in the car.”

“Wow, Allison, what a way to save the world.”

“Baby steps, Lydia, baby steps.”

 

Allison goes back on her seat behind them, glancing down at her bow and arrows. She doesn’t feel like a leader but, as her father always says, women are raised for this in their family. Her father. Who could be dead right now. She knows that taking care of people and finding that mysterious grimoire matter, but a part of her really wants to go in New York right away to fight alongside him. If they are lucky, in less than day, they’ll be there and she will be able to see him again.

They arrive in Jacksonville and it takes at least an hour to convince Jackson to come with them to New York. As unbearable as he can sometimes be, Jackson is an asset and they really need him, especially if Peter’s army plans to destroy the headquarters of the United Resistance. Neither Allison nor Danny are surprised when they see Lydia and Jackson coming back from the hotel, Jackson looking obviously tamed while carrying his luggage.

 

“So, I heard we were going to hell.” Jackson says while sitting next to Danny, Lydia coming behind next to Allison.

“Thanks for coming with us, Jackson.” Allison says.

“Yeah, we know how hard it must be for you to leave _your_ town.”

“Ha. Ha. Hilarious, Danny. Why don’t you just drive?”

 

Allison still can’t believe that those two are actually best friends. Lydia confessed that it is her fault. She kept rejecting Jackson’s romantic gestures back then so he went to seek Danny’s advices. What he did not know was that Lydia liked him back but he gained a girlfriend and a best friend in the process so he is not going to complain about it much.

Since they have a long road ahead of them, they stop midway to sleep in a motel – which means sleeping together for Lydia and Jackson. The walls aren’t soundproof enough to ignore it. Therefore, Allison and Danny end up playing cards on the floor. After the third round of Three Thirteen, Allison looks up thoughtfully towards Danny.

 

“Is Centralia really haunted?”

“Yes.” He admits after a while. “I suspect a spell gone wrong there. But it’s not that dangerous.”

“Uhm…”

“Okay, just in case, you should go with Lydia. To defend her.”

“Not dangerous, uh?”

“Nothing happens in Centralia but no one even tried to take the magical book that is probably the source of the fire, you know.”

“Right... I was planning to go with her anyway. I guess you really don’t know where we can find it?”

“No, you’re going to have to trust Lydia’s banshee’s skills. I can do a spell to protect you girls though it’ll only last 2 hours.”

“It’ll be more than enough. Come on, we should get some sleep if we are the ones supposed to protect them tomorrow.”

“Awesome…” Danny sighs, standing up anyway to put the cards back in his bag.

 

Both of them wake up early to go buy some breakfast before coming back to the motel. The plan is simple: they reach Centralia in approximately four hours, retrieve back the book in less than 2 hours then go back on the road. Luckily for them, Centralia is not very far from New York. And then… well, they fight back Peter and his alphas. What could go wrong?

 

“I wonder…” Jackson mutters when Allison recaps everything that they still need to do when they reach Centralia.

“Be optimistic, Jackson, I’m doing my best right now. Okay, Danny, do the spell thing and we’re going.”

“Sure thing, girls, and then I’ll keep Jackson in line.”

“You wish.”

 

The girls roll their eyes before getting out of the car. They wave them goodbye before walking into Centralia.

 

“I still can’t believe we’re going into a maybe haunted town for a book.”

“Yeah, being on the Emissary side can be weird like that sometimes.”

“I’m starting to understand that. Can you feel it somehow?”

“Uhm… I didn’t mean to alarm you so I didn’t say anything but… I got some weird visions earlier… Something with a church, the book on the altar and… people dying in it. Like, murdered.”

“Oh.”

“Yeah. On the bright side… that means the book is in the church.” Lydia says with faltering smile.

“Sure. So we just have to find the church in all that… wildness.”

“Yeah that’s when Google map could be useful.”

“Well maybe I can try with my phone... I’ll screencap the map or something.”

“Are you sure that it’s safe?”

“Well, we only have two hours and we can’t spend them by just looking for the church.”

“Your call, leader.”

 

With a smile, Allison takes out her phone and, after some few minutes, finally figures out where the church is.

 

“Come on, let’s go it’s not close.”

“Maybe we could take the car, then?”

“You know the answer to that, Lydia, sorry… We don’t know what awaits us there.”

“Hopefully, nothing.”

 

Shaking her head, Allison takes Lydia’s hand in hers and both of them move forward. She can feel Lydia tensing next to her, which probably means that they are going in the right direction.

 

“Feeling any danger?”

 

Lydia shrugs uncertainly. Allison nods, her free hand reaching automatically to her bow on her shoulder. Better be safe than sorry. It doesn’t take them too long to reach the church that looks unexpectedly clean, its white walls and golden crosses almost shining under the sun.

 

“That doesn’t look so bad. What are you doing with that arrow, Allison?”

“Don’t panic, I’m just getting ready. We never know.”

 

Lydia shivers but follows Allison up the stairs anyway. They can’t go back now that they are so close to their goal. Lydia holds her breath while Allison slowly opens the door. They both sigh in relief when the church is both clean and empty.

 

“Guess nobody was murdered recently at least.”

“Until us.” Lydia whispers. “I saw the book on the altar, let’s check.”

 

Lydia walks directly towards the altar, Allison on her steps. It is not really a surprise for any of them when there is nothing on the altar.

 

“Maybe it was taken away?”

“Not, it’s here, Allison… I can feel it.”

“Okay then… Priests have a special room, right?”

“Usually, yeah. Think it’s there?”

“It’s not here so we can try at least.”

 

Sighing deeply, Lydia follows Allison to the priest’s room.

 

“Do you still feel—“

“What, death all around? Yeah, definitely.”

“Okay, let’s take a look around quickly then.”

 

With what Allison could describe as an annoyed pout, Lydia starts opening the cupboards. Putting her bow back on her shoulder, Allison goes towards the priest’s office. They look through books and papers for what feels like an eternity until Lydia suddenly drops a Bible with a gasp.

 

“What’s wrong?”

“I saw… death. And, I think it was the priest who was here. He was running from something, I couldn’t see it, it was just a flash…”

“Okay, Lydia, calm down.” Allison commands with her hands on Lydia’s shoulders. “What do you remember?”

“Uhm… something killed the priest. It looked like he was hiding something in a room underground? It doesn’t make any sense.”

“Or maybe there’s a secret passage somewhere and he hid the grimoire there! How do we open the door?”

“With a key, that’s how most door work.”

“Fair enough. Then, I find the key and you focus on that priest’s death. We need to find that passage.”

 

Lydia sighs again but sits down on the floor, carefully picking up the Bible again. Allison goes back to the wooden desk. She remembers seeing keys in its drawers. Now, the problem is which one is the right one. She considers taking all of them and her attention is brought to one of the keys, old and its golden color long faded.

 

“Hey, Lydia… Do you feel something when you touch that key?”

 

Lydia jumps slightly before holding out her hand.

 

“Don’t scare me while I’m bansheeing.” She lectures while taking the key and closing her eyes. “Yes… That’s it, that’s the key.”

“Great, have you found it?”

“What? Oh, the passage… I think it’s right underneath the church. There is a trap below the altar. I couldn’t see more.”

“That’s okay, thank you, I know it’s not easy for you. Let’s go there.”

 

So, it was the altar, in the end. Just not on it. The girls push it away with all their strength and open the mysterious trap. There is a wooden ladder going deep down into the dark. The girls glance at each other before Allison takes back the bow in her hand and starts climbing down. They arrive in a dirty tunnel that looks on the verge of collapsing. Lydia nods towards the right, playing with the key in her hand, the other holding her phone like a flashlight. Allison doesn’t need supernatural powers to feel the dark energy surrounding them. Something happened down here, and not only the priest’s murder. Yet, nothing attacks them. Danny’s spell must be really strong.

They keep walking through what feels like an underground maze for half an hour before Lydia starts walking faster. This means that they are close. They indeed arrive in front of a modest door. Allison raises an eyebrow and Lydia nods.

 

“Don’t let it fool you, it’s protected. You can’t open it without the key and, even with the key, you have to be an emissary to be able to use it.”

“So that priest was one of us.”

“Apparently. Or it’s a trap.”

“I like my theory better.”

 

Lydia hesitates a second before opening the door that makes a loud creaky noise when she pulls it. Allison looks around but no, still no one trying to kill them. And the book is inside, along with herbs she doesn’t know and other old books or objects.

 

“There’s only a part of it.” Allison notices.

“Yes. Deaton and others went to find the rest of it. I’m not trying to be pessimistic but it’s been a bit too easy so far, so I think we should go as fast as possible.”

“Yeah, good plan.” Allison agrees, leaving the odd small room.

 

Lydia closes the door and both of them almost run back to the ladder. It might be just a feeling, but the energy seems to be thicker around them.

 

“Whatever it is, it can feel that Danny’s spell is dying.” Lydia says while climbing the ladder, confirming Allison’s impression.

“I was thinking the same thing, I’m texting him. The way out of this town is here anyway.”

“You wanna stay here? With _things_ below us?”

“I can protect us for a while until they reach us. Be thankful that we can still use communication tools.”

“Well, I could have done a communication spell, it’s not that hard.” Lydia sighs before going to put the key back in the office.

 

When she comes back, Allison has already texted Danny, joining the screenshot of the map she took earlier. The girls quickly leave the church and go sit on the stairs outside. They don’t talk until Danny’s car arrives and they get inside it.

 

“Drive, drive now.” Lydia orders.

 

Danny does as he is told without questioning her.

 

“Did it go well?”

“Something was definitely watching but we got the book.”

“And something didn’t attack us.” Allison adds. “Thanks to you, Danny.”

“You’re welcome. So what now? New York, so we can definitely be attacked by something?”

“Looks like it.”

“If we win though” Lydia says after a while “It’ll be nice to stop moving for a while.”

 

Both Allison and Danny nod with a smile. Jackson raises an eyebrow, looking confused.

 

“Why did you guys move so much?”

“You’re such a privileged Were boy sometimes.” Lydia sighs, looking down at her nails.

“Why? What did I say again?”

“Never mind, dude.” Danny says before Lydia can reply. “What did you do in Jacksonville?”

 

The fantastic adventures of Jackson take almost all the trip to New York to be told but none of them complains. It’s somehow nice to hear about his story that doesn’t include people dying or fighting for their lives. When they arrive in New York, they understand quickly that it is not the same story they will tell afterwards. People are running in the streets, panic can be felt all around them.

 

“What’s happening?” Jackson asks.

“Peter’s coming.” Allison answers, her hand tightening around her bow.

 

***

 

“Dad!” Allison screams, running to hug Chris Argent. “You’re alive!”

“So are you” Chris retorts, hugging her back. “You came just in time for the battle, I see.”

“How far is Peter?”

“He’ll be here tomorrow, you were lucky not to see him on your way here. Do you have it?”

 

Behind them, Lydia takes the book out of her bag.

 

“Perfect, I need you to protect it. Allison will stay with you.”

“What? No way! I’m fighting with you!”

“No, Allison. You are the resistance’s leader. We need you safe and able to give orders. I need you safe.”

“But I can fight, I can protect myself.”

“Good. You will probably need to. But that book needs protection; our hope might lie inside it.”

“I lost mom already, I can’t lose you too.” Allison whispers, looking desperate.

“And you won’t. I promise. Parrish will stay with you, I trust him. And if we encounter people who need to be taken care of, I’ll send them to you, okay?”

“Okay.” Allison nods. “Okay, I’ll do it.” She adds, looking more certain. “Now go, Peter is good at being one day early on what we planned.”

 

Chris smiles a bit sadly before kissing her forehead.

 

“I’m proud of you, Allison.”

“Go, dad. We’ll do all that after we win.”

 

Her father holds her hand tightly before running outside, followed by his men. One of them stays behind and comes to her. She heard of him, her dad told her he used to work with Stiles’ father before. He comes to her and even Lydia takes an interested look at him. Of course, Parrish is handsome.

 

“Your father told me to stay with you, my name is—“

“Parrish. I know. Now we just need to secure Lydia and the book. Are there any other Emissaries around?”

“No, we moved them to Philadelphia earlier today. They’ll go back once all this is over.”

“Okay, then let’s do this. Lydia we’re going.”

 

The four of them follow Parrish to a room without windows underneath the building they are hiding in. Apparently, it is where the other powerful Emissaries stayed. Lydia sits on one of the beds, still hugging the book closely.

 

“I don’t like the idea of staying here and doing nothing.”

“Your abilities are incredible but you’re not a fighter. Let us keep you safe, and then you’ll try to save us all once all the parts of this book are reunited.”

“I wish I could do more.” Lydia admits.

“I know. Jackson, you stay with her.”

“Sure. You don’t need me out there?”

“Not for now. Wish us luck.”

 

Allison closes the door and watches as Danny prepares a spell to protect the room.

 

“What now?”

“We go upstairs and wait.”

 

The two men nod and follow her upstairs. They sit on the ground in silence. They can still here the city outside, people’s anxious voices and cars speeding. It takes a while before the city is finally silent. Which means that they succeeded to get out the citizens safely before Peter’s arrival. The silence lasts for another hour. Then they hear the roars. As Allison thought, Peter is early. Beside her, the boys aren’t moving, eyes fixed on the door. The large blinds on the windows are closed and the door barely let any light in. The only way to find them is the Weres want to.

 

“How is Stiles?” Parrish suddenly asks, eyes still fixed on the door.

“He’s—“ Allison starts before stopping herself. How is Stiles? She saw him during what, a minute? She is not the one who can tell that.

“He’s fine.” Danny finally says. “He lost his memories though; he doesn’t remember anything before his car accident in June. Apart from this, he’s fine. Plus, he has a very hot boyfriend.”

 

Allison gives him a thankful look. Next to them, Parrish smiles slightly.

 

“That’s good, if he’s moving on somehow. Forgetting isn’t that bad, sometimes.”

 

Allison can’t help but to agree with him. However, there are memories that she knows are precious, even the bad, they made her who she is now. And she likes the person she became, she's strong enough now to protect the ones she loves. Most of the time.

Lost in her thoughts, she jumps when there are loud knocks on the door. She stands up, the other two on her steps, her bow ready to shoot.

 

“It’s me, it’s Cora! Chris sent me here!”

“The password!” another voice urges.

“Oh, fuck, right, uhm… I think it was mistletoe or whatever?”

 

With a sigh, Allison opens the door to welcome Cora and her friends in.

 

“Jesus, Cora, you need to work on this.”

“Passwords aren’t my thing.” She admits, watching her close the door. “When did you guys arrive?”

“Not so long ago. What happened to you?”

“The usual, Peter being a douche, escaping death, you know…”

“We were in Philadelphia when we saw the Emissaries arrive.” The Asian girl explains. “Hi, I’m Kira.” She adds, shaking their hands.

“Anyway, once we understood that shit was about to go down in NYC, we came here. I think the only positive side of this Peterapocalypse is the fact that refueling is basically free since everyone fled.” The other girl attests, sitting down on the floor. “But your father said that we were most needed here so, here we are.”

“Her name is Malia, and she probably was a delicate flower in her past life.”

“Piss off, I’m nice.”

 

Cora rolls her eyes and sits down next to her. Kira joins them, smiling apologetically. Allison smiles back and returns to her place, Parrish and Danny doing the same.

 

“Do we just wait?” Malia asks.

“Yeah, but not for long I think. New York is too big, Alphas will come here at some point.”

 

Allison is right. Minute after the minute the roar keeps getting louder until they finally are at their door. All of them are already standing up, ready to fight, Danny even making appear a Hawaiian spear in his hand. Danny’s spells are strong, but not strong enough against too many Alphas. Suddenly, the door explodes and Allison fires her first arrow, right into a Were’s heart. The others watch him fall down dead before roaring with fury. Her dad was right; she will fight, even here. Allison does not have the time to watch the others but she sometimes sees bullets fly, blue and gold eyes glowing, lightning running, or Danny’s spear spinning. It’s messy and dirty but she can’t care about it. She needs to keep Lydia and the book safe. Even if she dies, she needs to make sure that Jackson will have a number of opponents he can handle. So, she plays it smart, barely using her bow and mostly her knives and daggers. She needs to conserve her arrows.

They fight and they fight, getting wounds more and more serious. Allison allows herself to look around and starts to despair when the others look as tired as she feels. They can’t win, they need… Allison gasps when fire suddenly leaves Parrish’s body and burns two Alphas at once. That’s it, the element of surprise they can use. The Alphas are too startled to react. All of them seem to think the same thing when they abruptly attack the Alphas, wounding them deeply with their own weapons. The Weres are about to fight back when a roar louder than any others they heard before today reverberates around them.

 

“Peter.” Cora whispers while the Alphas flee. “He’s calling them.”

“We won?” Allison asks in disbelief.

“Yeah…” Cora confirms. “It looks like today is a victory.”

 

A laugh bubbling out, Allison lets herself fall on the floor. The others look at each other, looking both exhausted and happy. The Were girls reach out to hug each other while Danny gives Parrish a gentle pat on the shoulder.

 

“That feels so damn good.” Allison sighs, closing her eyes.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So, this time, I succeeded to make this chapter shorter!! As much as I like the other characters' pov, especially since it gives more infos about what's happening, I think I still prefer to write the sterek part :p Anyway, that was the last one like this! We're going back to Stiles and Derek in the next chapter :)


	10. Ascent

They get Cora’s call on a Tuesday. They both look at the phone in surprise but Derek quickly shakes it off and answer.

 

“What is going on?”

“Problems, what else? Do you guys remember those who helped Derek in L.A.?”

“Yeah.” Stiles nods event though she can’t see her. “I saw the girl, her name was Braeden, right?”

“Yeah, well Braeden and her boyfriend are in big troubles. Peter found out how they helped you and others in the past so they escaped but he’s tracking them down. Well, not himself, of course, but guess who he sent?”

“Deucalion.”

 

Stiles almost falls on the bed, shocked. It’s not like he forgot about him these past few days, it’s not like he could anyway unless someone casted another spell on him. Nevertheless, a part of him hoped he wouldn’t have to see him again. He feels like he was living in a bubble with Derek until now, but someone just burst it. With claws and making blood pour on him. He reaches out to hold Derek’s hand.

 

“Himself. And two other Alphas along with him. I guess you heard about San Francisco and how they kill Alphas that are not on their side, now. Just like mom.”

“Yes, we were in Sacramento when we heard the news and it was starting there as well.”

“Where are you now?”

“In Louisiana, Malia has… had family here so we dropped by to warn them. It… It didn’t work out, as you can guess. Anyway, we’re probably going to come to New York or Philly by the coast when we’re done, while Allison’s team took a more direct road. In the end, we’re going to be there at the same time as them, more or less...”

“What about Braeden, where is she? Can we help her?”

“From what I understood, they are coming your way. I’ll text you their numbers so you can find a way to see one another. If Deucalion is near you, you better make a bigger team.”

“Four against three Alphas.” Stiles states. “I don’t know if it’s going to change that many things for us…”

“It’s still better than only two against three.” Derek says and stands up, going outside, probably to talk about their family.

 

Stiles lets himself go against the bed, watching the ceiling. He can do things now, he mostly knows how to use his powers. Sure, he doesn’t know exactly what he can do but he did his best to master what he figured. Besides, Derek thinks he’s good enough to fight by himself, if he uses his brain. Stiles always uses his brain so, really, that shouldn’t be a problem. Unless fear paralyzes him. Which might happen in front of Deucalion.

 

He shivers, feeling ill at ease. He’s so used to his freedom now, to be the only master of his body that he can’t imagine what it would be like to be enslaved again. Being able to think of his first time with Deucalion by naming it as it is, a rape, took him already forever. It didn’t make his life easier but, at least, he knows now that no matter what Deucalion might want to convey in bed, power and superiority, it’s not his fault. He doesn’t deserve it and it doesn’t happen to him because it should. It happened to him because Deucalion is a sick bastard and so are his friends. That’s also why he’d rather kill himself than risking that again. It won’t make him feel numb this time, it will destroy him. More than it already has.

 

“Are you okay?” Derek asks when he comes back and Stiles shrugs, eyes still fixed on the ceiling.

“I think I hoped we would be fine. That the worst things in our lives for a while would just be my panic attacks and nightmares…”

“You trained, Stiles. You prepared yourself for this.”

“I know but…” Stiles sighs and sits up straight. “It’s too soon. I feel like we started to feel relaxed only yesterday, that we couldn’t even really enjoy being together. One of us might die tonight and if I don’t, you know what Deucalion will do to me and I can’t let this happen, not after us, not on this bed. I can’t, Derek.”

“Then don’t.” Derek retorts, sitting next to him. “Don’t let it happen. You’re smart; figure something out to help us survive him.”

 

Stiles nods and puts his head on Derek’s shoulder.

 

“I’ll see what I can do.”

“What do they do in your amazing books?” Derek teases and Stiles laughs.

“They would make out for hours until twilight – no pun intended – exchanging their vows afterwards and then they would fight side by side, hand in hand against their enemy. And because the power of their love is the strongest, they win and kiss passionately as the sun finally rises on the dawn of a new tomorrow.”

“That sounds great.” Derek snorts. “I can do the make out part until Braeden calls me back. Then I suggest we find them and go eat in a diner all together before our mighty battle.”

“You are such a romantic, my werewolf prince.” Stiles swoons, kissing his jaw.

“I’m currently praying for you to never try dirty talk.”

 

Stiles raises an eyebrow and straddles Derek, arms around his neck.

 

“You’re giving me ideas… Don’t complain if I try it next time.”

“Do you really want to make out right now?” Derek asks, his own arms coming up to hold him by the waist. “We could go and train, if you want.”

“We’re going to be tired if we do that. I am not going to panic. I am going to live my life normally until Deucalion arrives.”

“Yeah? Normally?”

“You know what I mean, dumbass. But we could go grocery shopping. I heard it’s very normal.”

 

Derek raises his judging eyebrow before kissing him slowly. Well, making out is also a normal activity for young couples. Except that this time it’s mostly Stiles giggling – in a very manly way – every time Derek rubs his stubble against his neck. He almost forgets about Deucalion coming to them. Almost. Then Derek’s phone rings and it’s all he can think about. He knows Derek can smell the slight change in his attitude but he just gives him a peck before reaching for his phone.

 

“It’s Braeden.” He says before answering.

 

Stiles sighs, readjusting his clothes and stands up to go wash his face in the bathroom. He knows that he needs to be stronger, not let it control him.

 

“It’s like we’re in a roller-coaster.” Stiles says when he comes back in the room. “When we finally reach a quiet life, everything suddenly goes down.”

“Ever been in one?” Derek asks, handing him his jacket.

“I’m trying to remember but if I can’t even know my own full name, I don’t think that this will come back. Where are we going?”

“Diner. They’re going to meet us there.”

 

They get inside the Camaro and drive to the meeting point. It’s not the first time that they come here and, as usual, the parking is mostly empty. They like the place because humans are managing it. It makes them feel safe somehow. Derek gets out and Stiles watches him while he leans against the car, waiting. Stiles is tempted to join him but decides to stay in the car. He has figured by now that they needed some time on their own. Sure, the fact that they are now dating makes it easier but even for them, being always together could be suffocating sometimes. Especially now, with the possibility of death just around the corner. He must think of something, a way out of it. No, it’s not enough. He needs a way to win. He bites his lip and gets out of the car at last.

 

“I feel like we’re either doing that us thing too fast or not fast enough, you know?”

“I know.”

“Anyway, I’ve been thinking and don’t eyebrow me, it’s rude. We should split, when Deucalion and the two others arrive. Deucalion is proud, too proud for his own good and we can use it against him.”

“What’s your plan, then?”

“You and Braeden are fighters, right? I know she’s an emissary. I’ll hide with her boyfriend. Deucalion will order the others to find us because he thinks he can handle you alone.”

“He would be right to think so.”

“Don’t be such a downer. I think I can find a way to trap them. That’s the best I can do and I’m not really a killer.”

“I guess that means I really need to kill Deucalion.”

“Unless you want to die, which you don’t. Do you?”

“I don’t. It doesn’t mean I won’t.”

“Oh my God, Derek! What did I say about being a downer?”

“I’m being realist.”

“No. No you’re not. You’re supposed to be lying to me right now.”

“I will never lie to you. The power of true love prevents me from doing it.”

“Right now the power of true love is telling you to stop talking, you dick.”

 

Stiles leans on the car next to Derek and waits with him in silence. It doesn’t take long before a bike arrives on the parking and stops right in front of them. Stiles recognizes Braeden when she takes out her helmet but her boyfriend looks familiar too, tall with curly hair and bright blue eyes. Who looks at him with amazement before throwing himself at him.

 

“Stiles! It’s been forever, how are you?”

“Uh… what?”

“Oh, right, amnesia. I’m Isaac, we used to hang out at Peter’s when Scott and Allison were too busy with, you know...”

“And what did _we_ do?”

“Sex, mostly.”

 

Stiles gapes at him while Derek raises an amused eyebrow and Braeden looks unconcerned by what she just heard. Why is he always the only one reacting?

 

“I’m kidding.” Isaac finally says, rolling his eyes. “I had more a crush on Scott. Even though I wouldn’t have said no to you.”

“I don’t know if I’m flattered or worried, right now.”

“Anyway, let’s go eat and get prepared for Deucalion.” Braeden cuts while going inside the diner, followed by an amused Derek.

 

Isaac gives him a smug wink and Stiles didn’t even know it was possible to be smug while winking but, obviously, Isaac isn’t from this dimension. The two of them goes to find a table while Derek and Braeden take care of ordering with the excuse of “we are in a hurry” but both can tell they’re just going to talk about things they aren’t supposed to hear. Stiles crosses his arms and stares at Isaac.

 

“Do you also feel like we’re being babysat?”

“Most definitely. It’s like we’re weak or something.”

 

Stiles narrows his eyes at him.

 

“I am not weak.”

“Good for you. Do you feel strong, then?”

“All right, no, I don’t. But we can still do something.”

 

Isaac shrugs and turns his head to look for Derek and Braeden.

 

“So, Brae told me you guys were dating?”

“The world is literally on fire and Derek and I are still what people are gossiping about?”

“Oh come on, not everyone cares about you but I know you, remember? Okay, right, you can’t. But the last time I saw you, you were more the kind to set yourself on fire rather than dating someone.”

“Really?” Stiles asks, only half-surprised considering, well, Peter’s house and its living conditions.

“Yeah, really. I honestly never thought you’d end up with a werewolf.”

“Me neither. How about Braeden and you? How did it happen?”

“Got myself in trouble once because someone couldn’t handle the truth and she saved my ass. She looked hot while saving me so I developed a crush.”

“Yeah, same here.” Stiles says, looking up when Derek and Braeden come towards them. “Hey, you heard that, you’re hot when you’re saving my life.”

“I get to be hot a lot, then.”

“You are such a huge dick… And this wasn’t supposed to be flattering, stop smiling.”

 

Derek snorts and slides next to him. Isaac looks at them with incredulity.

 

“You guys are almost cute, I think it’s gross.” He states before high fiving Braeden.

“I agree. Back to serious stuff. We had to trick Deucalion and the twins to get away but it won’t last.”

“The twins?”

“Yes, the two other Alphas with Deucalion are twins, they can merge into only one and powerful werewolf.” Isaac explains.

“Yuck. _That_ is gross.”

“How did you trick them?”

“We crossed Centralia. Not really legal or safe or even that possible but, hey, so am I.” Braeden shrugs. “Even werewolves need to be careful around here. I might have make the place even more dangerous to help us.”

 

Stiles nods and promises himself to google the name of the town if they ever see tomorrow. Their orders arrive and they start eating while talking about their preparations to make against Deucalion. Braeden is apparently more than pleased to hear they have weapons in their trunk and Stiles frowns.

 

“But aren’t you an emissary?”

“I am, but I know how to fight and how to use a gun. How do you think they killed Weres, back then, by casting spells of them? Everyone dies with a bullet in the head or in the heart.”

“That’s radical... How did someone like you ended up at Peter’s?”

“It was my mission, to infiltrate and learn his plans, eventually help one of ours when necessary.”

“Did you… helped me?”

“No, I think you helped yourself.”

 

Stiles sighs deeply and goes back to his curly fries. Whenever he thinks he is going to be able to learn more about himself, the mystery gets bigger and darker. Derek brings back the conversation to their plan but they all know the only thing they can do is try to survive as long as possible. None of them thinks they can actually win and it is depressing him. He wants to win, he wants Deucalion dead, and he wants all of them to survive. It’s all impossible but that’s the only way it has to happen.

 

They go back to their motel and, while Braeden and Isaac take a room on the first floor, Stiles and Derek go back to theirs. Derek goes to take a shower and let Stiles figure out the rest of his plan, sitting on the bed with all the herbs he took from Jennifer’s car. He is willing to try something new but what if it doesn’t work? He is still planning when they hear it. A loud growl echoing into the night, claiming blood and vengeance, warning them that he’s coming.

 

 

***

 

Stiles can still feel Deucalion’s howl echoing in his head.

 

“How far is he?” Stiles asks in a strangled voice.

 

Derek comes closer and looking through the window. He sighs and puts his hand on Stiles’ back.

 

“He will be here in some few minutes. Come on.”

“We don’t have the time to escape!” Stiles protests.

“We aren’t fleeing!” Derek growls, eyes flashing blue. “We’re going to fight back, it was the plan all along.”

“We can’t win this, Derek. What if you die? I can’t lose you, not now, not ever.”

 

Derek takes his face between his hands, stroking his cheeks gently.

 

“Don’t panic. You trained, you can do this, you can defend yourself.”

“What about you?” Stiles whispers while trying to keep his breathing even.

“Braeden and I will hold them back. You need to protect Isaac. Can you do this for me?”

 

Stiles nods and surges up to give him a hard and desperate kiss. Derek gives it back, pressing him against the door. Stiles arms fly up around his shoulders, fingers gripping in his hair.

 

“Come on. We need to hurry.” Derek says, kissing his jaw.

“Maybe if we’re in the middle of sex, they’re going to take a room and wait until we’re over?”

 

Derek chuckles and shakes his head. He gives a light kiss of his forehead and steps back.

 

“It’s Deucalion. He might want to join us.”

“I’m afraid it could happen, yeah.” Stiles mutters, getting outside and followed by Derek.

“See you later.” Derek says while going on the parking, waiting for Deucalion.

 

Stiles has to make an effort to not run to him and goes up to Braeden and Isaac’s room. The door opens on Braeden when he’s about to knock. She gives him a nod before going down to join Derek. Isaac comes in front of Stiles.

 

“What do we do? I am personally not fond of hiding waiting for my girlfriend to be killed.”

“Me neither. We’re not going to hide, we’re going to set a trap for the one who will look for us.”

 

Isaac nods and closes the door behind him. Stiles looks around and spots the room he knows is empty and runs to it, Isaac on his steps. He tries to open it but the door is closed. He considers going downstairs to steal the key but that would take time and he can’t let Isaac and him be separated. Isaac sighs and takes his place, taking two hairpins from his pocket.

 

“First of all why do you even have that?”

“To always find a place to stay, why else?”

“Are you a criminal?”

 

Isaac takes a second to give him a pitying look before crocheting the lock. The speed with which he opens the door lets Stiles speechless and Isaac turns with him with a proud smile.

 

“What now?”

“We go inside and make no noise.”

“Seriously, that’s your plan?”

“Most of it is that, though. We can’t let them find us too quickly. If we die, Derek and Braeden will have to face the three of them at once.”

 

Stiles enters the room and looks around before taking Isaac’s hand and pouring a light brown powder in it.

 

“Here, take this, oak dust. Just put in your pocket or whatever.”

“What for?” Isaac asks, doing as he’s told.

“So I can protect you. I discovered an affinity with lightning and it will immunes you. Don’t ask me why exactly, it’s just… emissary stuff.”

“Wait, you are an emissary?”

“Uhm, yeah? You didn’t know?”

 

Isaac shakes his head.

 

“Did you?” Isaac asks back

“Maybe? I don’t remember. Do you know how to use mountain ash? Great, stand by the door then, block it after they enter.”

“Do I stay in or outside?” he asks as Stiles puts mountain ash on the windowsill.

“In. Don’t worry. I got this. Hopefully.”

“Wow, I feel better already.”

“How about you be useful and look for things we can use as a weapon just in case? I only have my knife.”

“I am useful. Remember who opened the door?”

 

Stiles is about to reply when they hear the growl again. But this time it’s closer, so much closer. They look at each other with dread and both go to the door, pressing their ears against it to hear what is happening outside. Soon, two other growls reverberate in the night and Stiles takes a step back in silence. The twins. He gives his knife to Isaac who goes at his post towards the door. Stiles jumps when he hears the first gunshot, paralyzed in the middle of the room. It takes the sound of Derek’s own growl for him to move. It’s the first time for him, the first time he is in a fight where he needs to use his powers. Where he knows he can use them. Stiles quickly goes to open the bathroom and turns towards Isaac. They nod to each other and hold their breaths. Outside, the fight is in full swing but none of them can tell exactly what is happening. They hear voices and screams, probably from the other clients of the motel. But they can’t hear the twins.

 

Jennifer told him that they could feel other supernatural creatures around them and it did work with Derek that one time. Stiles closes his eyes and tries to concentrate, focusing on the werewolves. He feels Derek right away but can also feel his strain and pain. Stiles forces himself to look for the others as well. It’s hard to discern the rest with most of the other clients being Weres. He knows werewolves have their own aura, just like Weres can distinguish emissaries from normal humans. He just needs to get it then he’ll be able to only spots Alphas. But he can’t do it now and he feels stupid for not working on that when he could.

 

A sensation, that’s what he should look for. A sensation of danger, threat, death. Stiles blinks and tries again. Danger. He’s feeling it, all of a sudden. And he recognizes its owner: Deucalion. Threat. There’s someone else, walking up the stairs, thirsty of blood, a monster. Death. They’re here. _It_ is here.

 

The door opens in the same time as Stiles’ eyes and a huge enraged werewolf lunge on him, tall enough to scrape the ceiling and the face split it two by a gruesome scar.

 

“Isaac now!” he shouts as he throws wolfsbane on them.

 

The werewolf lets out a long plaintive howl before falling on the ground.

 

“Isaac, it won’t last, I need water!”

 

The other boy just nods and runs into the bathroom and, yeah, he was right to let it open, wasn’t he? Isaac comes back running to him, carefully avoiding the werewolf still howling and gives him a glass of water.

 

“Do you need more?”

“No but you might wanna hide.”

 

Isaac looks around him, distressed, and ends up rolling under the bed. Stiles can’t really judge, he would have probably done the same thing. The werewolf starts to stand up, finally recovering and this is it, this is the moment where he can’t fail. He has a memory he always comes back to so he finds it, that moment when Deucalion first touched him. The werewolf’s hands are suddenly on his throat, scratching him enough to make him bleed. Stiles chokes, hands holding the Alpha’s forearms but focuses more on his memory. That’s when the lightning leaves his body to hit the monster, projecting it against the invisible barrier. It’s not enough to stop it and the werewolf comes back, surges on him. But Stiles is ready. He lets it explode out of him and onto that little glass of water. And when he drops it on the floor, the room seems to be on fire, lamps and mirrors breaking. But most importantly, it smacks violently into the werewolf that becomes two, both of them colliding with the opposite walls with enough strength that they leave a hole in them when they fall down on the floor. Stiles stares, panting. It worked. Fuck.

 

“Isaac, are you still alive?”

 

Isaac gets out of under the bed and looks around, stunned.

 

“You did this? You destroyed the room and knocked down the worst Alpha I’ve ever seen?”

“Looks like it. Come on, we need to tie them up to something… if there’s anything left.”

“Yeah, right.”

 

They both look around and wince. The walls are now black as if they were burned, the furniture is in pieces and Stiles thinks he hears water flowing in the bathroom. Water!

 

“Let’s put them in the bathroom, I have an idea.”

“What kind of idea?” Isaac asks while helping him carrying one of the twins in the broken bathtub.

“Terrible?” Stiles suggests and turns on the tab that is thankfully not damaged.

“Are you going to drown them?”

“Would it even work?”

“I don’t think so.”

“Then, no.”

 

They go back in the room to carry the other twin and drop him in the water next to his brother. Stiles reaches for mountain ash in his pocket and surround the bathtub with it.

 

“How did you even do it?”

“I don’t know. That lightning thing is the only thing I know I can use as a weapon and Kira, who is a Kitsune, told me she sometimes uses conductors to carry her powers. I figured I could use water to enhance my own.”

“I see you’re still the smartest one in the room.”

“Wait till you meet Lydia.”

 

Isaac sighs and let himself go against the wall.

 

“Do we stay here until it’s over? I want to help them but I’m afraid we’re going to be in their way.”

“Yeah, me too. I don’t feel the energy anymore, I think I used it all… Keep an eye on them. They can’t escape but I can come to knock them down if necessary, I have enough strength for that.”

“What about you?”

“I’ll see what I can do help them.”

 

Stiles looks down on the twins one last time before leaving the room. There is a complete chaos outside, people are still screaming and some even got hurt probably because they were too close from one of the Alphas. Derek and Deucalion are still fighting on the parking but Derek is in a terrible shape. Stiles feels his heartbeat speeding up when he can see Braeden. It’s bad. She might be hurt but he can’t know anything for sure from up there. So he crosses the mountain ash line and rushes downstairs. He knows it’s a bad idea while he’s doing it but if he can help Braeden, he will. But he doesn’t know if it’s possible.

 

When he spots her, against the wall under the stairs, all he sees is blood. Her blood, too much of it on the wall and ground. Stiles kneels next to her, hands shaking when he grabs her shoulders.

 

“Braeden?” he asks, voice uncertain. “Can you hear me?”

 

Stiles gets closer to her but doesn’t feel any breath coming out of her mouth. When he touches her cheek, the skin under his palm is cold. Stiles feels tears coming up. She’s dead. Deucalion killed her. Wrath soon overpowers his sadness and he stands up, turning towards the fight. It’s enough. Enough of them always destroying everything around them and thinking of themselves as a superior race. Stiles doesn’t realize he is walking towards Deucalion, not even when Derek shouts at him, telling him to go back in the room. He is not going to hide from him.

 

Jennifer said it could be dangerous but he doesn’t care. He yells and it is as if a brutal wave of energy is leaving his body to clash strongly against the werewolf. Stiles hears Deucalion’s bones breaking as he himself falls on the ground, exhausted. Derek comes running to him and holds him.

 

“Are you okay?”

 

Stiles shakes his head, eyes still fixed on Deucalion. He can’t do nothing more, he can’t risk hurting Derek or anyone else to help him regain his energy.

 

“Deucalion. You need to kill him. You need to do it now. Please.” Stiles whispers.

 

Derek looks up towards the Alpha and nods, letting him go to lunge on Deucalion with a loud growl, claws and fangs out. One of his hands buries itself into Deucalion’s stomach. The Alpha snarls and scratches Derek’s side, his blood splattering everywhere. Derek’s growl gets louder before, in a desperate move, he bites Deucalion’s throat deeply and tears it off. Deucalion falls limp in Derek’s arms, red painting the both of them. He gives a last strangled gasp that Stiles finds ironic since he only has half of his neck now. Derek spits out Deucalion’s flesh and let him fall on the ground before he comes back to kneel next to Stiles and offers him his hand. A flow of energy runs through him when he takes it and Stiles looks up to see Derek’s eyes flashing red.

 

“Derek… Your eyes…”

“Yeah… I guess I’m the Alpha, now.”

 

Stiles nods and looks behind him towards Deucalion’s body.

 

“Is he really…”

“Dead? Yeah. I killed him, thanks to you.”

 

Stiles smiles weakly to him and stands up with Derek’s help. People are still panicking around them and Stiles is surprised the cops aren’t here yet.

 

“The authorities are on their side.” Derek says, as if reading his thoughts. “They are probably waiting for their call. We need to go now.”

“The others are alive, I trapped them and Isaac’s keeping an eye on them.” Stiles states, following him towards the stairs. “Oh, no, Isaac…! Braeden is… she’s dead.”

 

Derek doesn’t answer but reaches down to hold his hand. They go together inside after Stiles breaks the mountain ash line and Isaac runs to them, looking relieved when he recognizes them.

 

“Thank God you guys are alive. Where’s Braeden?” he asks, trying to look behind them.

 

Stiles shakes his head but can’t say the words. Isaac understands right away when he looks at him anyway.

 

“She didn’t make it.” Derek finally answers. “She got too close and he took the advantage.”

 

Isaac sits on the broken bed, staring at his hands.

 

“But he’s dead, right? Deucalion died?”

“Yes, it’s over.”

“No it’s not!” Isaac explodes. “They should all die!”

 

Stiles takes a step back, surprised by the sudden violence in his words.

 

“She’s avenged.” He tries but Isaac fixes his sharp blue eyes on him.

“She’s not. She will be avenged when all those _mighty_ Alphas are dead too.”

 

Isaac stands up, taking out Stiles’ knife.

 

“What are you going to do with that?” Derek inquires, moving forward.

“The twins are still alive.”

“You can’t do this, Isaac.” Stiles protests. “I get that you’re upset, I would be too, but we can’t just kill them!”

“This is bullshit.”

“I agree with Stiles…” Derek starts but Isaac just gives a short joyless laugh.

“Of course you do, he’s your boyfriend!”

“I agree with Stiles but not for the same reasons. We need to know what Peter plans to do.”

 

Isaac turns to him, interested.

 

“Will we torture them?”

“I haven’t figured that out yet. All I know is that they are our only way to get information but we need to leave this place before others come for us.”

 

Derek then turns to Stiles.

 

“Do you have an idea?”

“I can keep them unconscious for a while. They just need to be immerged in something. It can be only a plastic basin or whatever.”

“Okay, Isaac, can you check your room for one? I remember seeing one in ours. Stiles and I will carry the twins in the car.”

 

The two humans acquiesce and they all hurry to their tasks. Carrying the twins downstairs requires an amount of energy Stiles literally loathe. They then go into their room to take the basin. Stiles fills it and meets Isaac on his way to the car, a full basin on his arms too.

 

“Ever felt like people were looking at you weirdly?”

 

Stiles shrugs with a small smile and puts one of the twins’ legs in his basin while Isaac does the same thing on the other.

 

“Will you be okay?” Stiles asks after giving the water a little shock.

“Not really. But we have to move forward so I’ll be fine until then.”

“Okay. Go pack your stuff and meet us at the car. I’ll go help Derek so we can leave as soon as possible.”

“Hey… do you think that we could… bury Braeden? I don’t want to leave her here and she deserves that much.”

 

Stiles nods, looking towards her limp body, not so far from Deucalion’s.

 

“We’ll put her in our trunk, envelop her in a cover, and just tell us where to stop.”

“Thank you. I’ll do it myself, though, I want to.” Isaac says with a sigh, going upstairs.

 

Stiles goes back to their room and sees the bags already ready on the bed.

 

“You’re fast.” Stiles remarks, joining Derek in the bathroom.

 

Derek is carefully wiping the blood on his hips, putting his ribs back in and Stiles winces, coming closer to help him.

 

“You packed before taking care of yourself?”

“It seemed more pressing.”

“You are an idiot, sir.” Stiles sighs, leaning to kiss him.

 

It’s not the moment, he knows it. He knows that they should hurry but he also remembers that he almost lost him just like Isaac lost Braeden. So it is his way of showing how grateful he is to still have Derek by his side, stronger than ever.

 

“That’s gross, Stiles, I have Deucalion’s blood all over my mouth.”

“Good, that’s the only way I ever wanted to taste him anyway.”

“You’re terrible.” Derek whispers but he lets Stiles kiss him fully, tongue licking the blood on his lips.

 

It’s intoxicating, to feel both death and life on his lips. His arms go naturally around Derek’s shoulders and he sighs when Derek’s lips go down his throat, licking his own blood from the twins’ scratch. He wishes he could stay all night like this, with Derek licking his wounds and him reciprocating. He just _wants_ Derek so much and he doesn’t want him to ever leave his side.

 

“I almost lost you too, tonight.” Stiles says, kissing him on the corner on the mouth. “Don’t scare me like this anymore, all right? Especially now that you’re a big bad Alpha.”

“I’ll do my best. Come on, before we end up fucking against the wall.”

“Don’t be such a romantic.” Stiles snorts, kissing him again before letting him go and going back to help him wiping the blood. “Isaac wants to bury Braeden.”

“We’ll need shovels, then.”

“We can steal them here, at this point, it’s not the worst thing we have done.”

 

While Derek finishes “fixing” himself, Stiles takes the bags and goes outside. Isaac is already against the car, waiting.

 

“I’ll take the bike.”

 

Stiles nods and opens the trunk, trying not to look at Braeden’s dead eyes. Dead everything. He closes it and goes next to Isaac.

 

“The motel might have shovels. I thought we could take them for… her.”

“Good idea, let’s go.”

 

Fortunately, the manager of the motel almost begs them to take the tools, as long as it means they’re leaving tonight. Apparently, killing a werewolf as legendary as Deucalion was has its perks. They throw the shovels on the twins just because and Isaac gets on the bike as soon as Derek joins them.

 

“Fully healed?” Stiles asks as he reaches to touch him.

“Not yet, but it will be soon. Do you have the shovels?”

“Right there. We can go and Isaac will show us where he wants to stop.”

 

Isaac starts his bike as soon as they’re in the car and Stiles allows himself a last look towards Deucalion.

 

“Do you think I lost it?” he asks some few minutes later. “My anchor. It used to be my anger towards him but now that he’s dead…”

“There’s still Peter.” Derek reminds him, eyes fixed on Isaac.

“I’m not sure. I hate him, I really do. But everything that happened to me before the accident… It’s just like it happened to someone else, sometimes. Even good things. I’m just missing the whole picture when it comes to that part of my life.”

“You can still find something else.”

“What about you? You have an anchor too, something to keep your wolf or whatever, right? A way to maintain control on yourself.”

“I do. But it changes.”

“It does?”

“Surprisingly, yes. It used to be my family, being part of a pack. Then it was my anger, my anger against Kate, against Peter…”

“What is it now?” Stiles asks, deciding to leave Kate for another day.

“It’s you.”

“Me? How does that work?”

“I want to protect you. I want to be strong for you. It’s that simple.”

 

Stiles feels a warmth in his heart and knows it reaches his cheeks. He smiles and reaches out to link their hands.

 

“Then I guess you should be mine too, now.”

 

Derek’s eyes don’t leave the road but there’s a smile blooming on his lips. A part of Stiles feels guilty by finding happiness and love while someone he considers a friend just lost everything. But he can’t help it. He doesn’t know how long it is going to last, how much time together they still have left. He hopes he will have the time to fall in love properly and, when he does, that we will be able to say it. Sometimes, he already wants to but it doesn’t feel right yet. It feels pushed by their situation, it doesn’t feel real enough.

 

They are on the road for a bit more than thirty minutes when Isaac gestures for them to stop. They arrive in the nature, where tall trees surround the earth. All of them park and Stiles and Derek join Isaac.

 

“I like it here. It’s wild and beautiful.”

“Was it a metaphor?”

“Nobody appreciates my poetic soul.” Isaac sighs and Stiles smiles.

“Let’s do it, then.”

 

As Isaac takes Braeden into his arms, they take the shovels after Stiles makes sure the twins will still be unconscious for a while. They walk a while longer until they find a decent spot then they start digging with one of them always holding a flashlight. Stiles can’t believe it. He’s digging a grave for a friend in the middle of nowhere. His eyes flies up towards her body, still half-enveloped in the seedy cover from the motel but he can see her face from here. It’s dark so he can’t discern her features but he can guess it. He already knows that her usual teasing look is gone for an expressionless mask.

 

When they’re done, they let Isaac carry her alone into the grave, helping him with the flashlight. He stays in it a while, kneeling next to her body, the cover discarded. Stiles looks away when he really feels like intruding and he can feel Derek doing the same. But they stay, they stay until Isaac tells them that he’s ready. Derek helps him get out and gives him a shovel. Isaac sighs deeply before taking it.

 

“I’ll do it myself. You guys can go back to the car. I won’t do anything I just need to be… to be alone to do this.”

 

Derek nods and gives him the flashlight too. He takes the other shovel and Stiles’ hand and goes back towards the car in silence. Stiles gives Isaac a last look before following Derek as best as he can with darkness surrounding them.

 

“Do you want me to carry you in my arms?” Derek asks after Stiles trips for the fifth time.

“Shut up, don’t make me smile, none of this is funny.”

“You tripping is.”

“I really don’t like you.” Stiles mutters when he trips again and Derek chuckles.

 

They arrive safely to the car and Stiles checks if the twins are unconscious, even though he knows they are.

 

“We should probably get chains to tie them up. I can wolfsbane them.”

“Tire chains could do.”

“Let’s do this now, then, before Isaac comes back.”

 

Stiles goes in the trunk to retrieve them and let Derek find a way to tie the twins with them while preparing a wolfsbane solution.

 

“It’s done” Derek says, panting a little.

 

Stiles nods and pours the liquid of methylated spirits mixed with wolfsbane on a handkerchief. He leans in the car, rubbing the wet handkerchief against the chains. When his work is done, he throws it on the trunk and touches Derek’s cheek with his tainted hand. Derek hisses and that’s probably the cutest sound he ever heard.

 

“What the hell, Stiles?”

“That’s for laughing earlier because I don’t have supernatural vision and yeah, I tripped several times, so what.” Stiles retorts, feeling smug as he let water from their bottle flow on his hand to clean it.

“What are you? Twelve?”

“Well, barely ten years older so I do what I can.”

 

Derek rolls his eyes and leans against the car. Stiles bites his lip as he closes the trunk.

 

“It doesn’t bother you, does it? My age. I'm obviously younger than you.”

 

Derek raises an eyebrow when he turns towards him and Stiles comes next to him.

 

“I’m serious.”

“You always are about things that don’t matter.” Derek deadpans.

“I just want to know.”

“Fine. It doesn’t bother me because it’s your choice. You’re the one who wanted this so I don’t feel bad about our age difference. Is that what you wanted to hear?”

“You wanted it too, though, right? It’s not just me.”

“What do you think?”

“I—It doesn’t matter, what I think.” Stiles sighs, looking towards the woods. “I’m your anchor.”

 

Derek snorts and Stiles nudges him.

 

“Also we’re like _engaged_.”

“Are you seriously bringing the claim back?”

“I forever will. I am going to use everything I can against you, especially proofs that you love me.”

 

Stiles can feel Derek tenses and he wonders why as he tries to remember his exact words. Then it hits him like a truck. Oh, God, he used the L word. Stiles clears his throat and concentrates on the woods, praying for Isaac to come back and save him from the most awkward situation ever. Even though he’d rather be thinking about how to make up for that slip than Braeden’s dead body being buried and Isaac probably crying over her grave. That’s when Isaac does come back and hands him the shovel and the cover from the motel.

 

“It’s done” is what he says, looking down.

 

Derek takes the shovel and cover from Stiles’ hands and goes put it in the trunk. Isaac raises a questioning eyebrow towards Stiles and he answers by touching his ear and gesturing to Derek with his head. Isaac apparently understands that it means “not now, werewolf hearing” and lets it go.

 

“Where do we go now?” Stiles asks him out loud. “Did you have a plan?”

“Yeah, we were supposed to meet Scott. He should be in Minneapolis now.”

“Where is it?”

“Far.” Derek answers, coming back to them. “But we can be here in less than two days if we stop only once to sleep. Isaac, do you want me to drive your bike for a while? You must be tired.”

“Uh… Yeah?” Isaac says, looking uncertainly towards Stiles. “I don’t mean to intrude…”

“You aren’t. Stiles, you get to drive.”

“Awesome.”

 

Stiles takes the keys without looking at Derek and get behind the wheel, watching as Derek makes his way towards Isaac and Braeden’s bike. Isaac sits next to him in the car and waits for them to start driving to talk.

 

“Okay, what happened when I was burying my girlfriend?”

“I was burying my relationship.” Stiles retorts and sighs. “Sorry, shouldn’t say this.”

“I don’t mind, we’re friends because we both are assholes.”

 

Stiles laughs at that.

 

“I figured. Okay, if you really want to know, I used the L word.”

“Wow, you are in love, Stilinski?”

“No, it’s… what did you just say?”

“Stilinski. Your last name. You forgot that too?”

“I—yeah, I didn’t know. Do you know my full name?”

“Sorry, I don’t. Scott might, you guys been friends since… forever.”

“So that’s where Stiles comes from. Wow.”

“How did you remember about Stiles?”

“I didn’t at first. But I got a necklace and it was written on it.”

“Oh, right, Peter’s marks of ownership. I got one too. Who knew the douchebag would actually be useful one day?”

“Let’s not give him too much credit; I wouldn’t be in this situation if he wasn’t in my life to begin with.”

“Talking about werewolves in your life… You told Derek you loved him? You guys been together for what, three weeks?”

“We’ve known each other for three months, okay, and love can happen in months.”

“Attraction, yeah, but love?”

“Whatever. I didn’t say I loved him because you’re right, I am not in love. Yet. I said that he loved me.”

“That’s kinda worse.”

“But it wasn’t a “I know you love me” thing, it was just as a joke, I didn’t even mean to use the L word! And now it’s weird.”

“Well maybe he is in love with you and it’s serious for him.”

“I don’t think so, he’s just so emotionally constipated, I swear to God. We had an epic argument before he could even admit that he had feelings. Sure, it’s not the healthiest relationship ever but it’s working just fine.”

“Oh, so you guys had sex.”

“He kinda claimed me once? And we had sex three times ever since? I enjoyed it and, sometimes, I'm the one who wants to do it but... I don't know about you but, being with him is enough. I still don't know how I should feel about having sex...”

“That’s cool, it’s not like sex was a good thing for us until then anyway, but it’s different for me. I mean, I like sex, as long as I actually want it, you know.”

“You sound so smart and educated on life things.”

“We’re twenty, it’s not because we have a shitty life that we can’t try to find ourselves.”

“You’re right. I just haven’t taken the time to think about it, not really… So, did you find yourself?”

“Yeah, after many experiences with a lot of different people.”

“I don’t want the details.”

“It’s funny because you already have them, you just need to remember.” Isaac teases.

“Oh, God.”

“Back to Derek. Talk to him about this if it bothers you that much.”

“Fine, I will, sex guru.”

 

Isaac gives him an amused wink and stares out of the window. Stiles sighs and tries to tell himself that Derek didn’t want to drive the bike to get away from him. Besides, letting him drive the Camaro is probably a huge upgrade in their relationship he just doesn’t see it yet. They drive during six hours, stopping only to refuel before going back on the road for six more hours. Isaac is asleep next to him most of the time and Stiles almost feels the need to put a blanket on him and tell him bedtime stories. Even though he doesn’t even know one. He tells it to Isaac when he’s half-awake and he laughs, telling him to stop channeling his inner Scott before going back to sleep. Stiles frowns but can’t even deny things he can’t remember. It sounded like a compliment anyway.

 

They stop in a diner but none of them talks for a while until Isaac decides to go outside to enjoy the sun, which is a huge lie, Stiles doesn’t need to be a werewolf to know it. Stiles looks up to Derek.

 

“I’m sorry if I made you uncomfortable.”

“When?”

“With the… you love me thing.” Stiles explains looking down on his food. “I didn’t mean it seriously.”

“I know.”

“Then why did you stay away from me afterwards?”

“Isaac needed to rest and I thought you might want to talk together without me around. About your past and all that.”

“And that’s the only reason? Promise?”

“Yeah.” Derek sighs, getting up to go outside as well.

 

Stiles takes the time to finish his plate before joining them. They still have twelve more hours in front of them and Isaac decides to take his bike this time because of the nice weather. It doesn’t sound like a lie but they both can guess that he also wants do something to keep his mind off things. Stiles hands the car keys to Derek but he closes his fingers over it. Stiles looks up confused.

 

“I’m tired, I let you drive for the next six hours.”

“Seriously? You’re letting me drive your car _again_?”

“Looks like it. I guess it’s just another proof of my love for you.” Derek retorts with a light smile.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> BY THE WAY. Thanks for your comments and all! I hope you liked that chapter as well.


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